


Against The Grain

by saddle_tramp



Series: Gambling On Dreams [2]
Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-17
Updated: 2011-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-15 17:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 77,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saddle_tramp/pseuds/saddle_tramp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pairing: Chris/Vin<br/>Rating: NC-17 for explicit slash<br/>Word Count: 75,219 without headers</p><p>Summary: Sometimes risking everything is the only way to get even more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: I apologize in advance for any mistakes I made. Feel free to list them for me. I’d like to know what you spot, from canon I missed to writing flubs, unless you just want to say I got the Seven’s horses wrong. I know I didn’t stick with canon or fanon with them, but I did it on purpose. Buck strikes me as a mare man if ever there was one, and Nathan’s bay is always so grumpy-looking that being a mare just seemed to fit. ;-D
> 
> As for the rest, I did a bunch of research on some things to get them right, most of which I promptly realized I didn’t need and threw out. I also made a choice based on my own preferences and the needs of this story concerning Ezra’s service in the military during the Civil War. I contradicted canon again, or at least what’s hinted at in The New Law, because I think it works best for the Ezra that lives in my head. I’ve seen Ezra’s allegiance given to the North and the South about equally in fanfic, so I didn’t think anyone would care enough for it to ruin their enjoyment if they read this. If Blueboy!Ezra gives you fits, consider this your warning and my preemptive apology.
> 
> Titles are hard for me and this story was finished without yet having one, but the right one finally came from a Garth Brooks song. I was listening to my ‘cowboy fic’ playlist while I did a final edit, and this bit of lyrics leapt out at me:
> 
>  _If you're gonna make a difference,  
>  If you're gonna leave your mark,  
> You can't follow like a bunch of sheep,   
> You got to listen to your heart.  
> Go bustin' in like old John Wayne…   
> Sometimes you got to go against the grain._
> 
> I figure that fits the story and the Seven pretty good on a lot of levels, so _Against the Grain_ it is.

Part 1

 

Chris would never forget the day he met Vin Tanner. It was an eventful day even by his standards, but everything else that had happened sort of paled by comparison when he thought about meeting Vin’s gaze across that street.

By the time they were walking down the street side by side, Chris was already sure he liked the quiet stranger who was so quick to step up when it was needed. The way Vin responded during the short talk with Mary after saving Nathan’s life just made him that much more certain, and by the time Buck asked if Vin was with him, Chris didn’t hesitate to say yes. He liked how Vin had followed him so unflinchingly into trouble and wanted Vin to stay right there at his shoulder where it felt like he belonged. Buck had done that once upon a time, but one too many fights over Chris’ suicidal tendencies had finally driven Buck away. Even a friendship forged in fire and blood could only take so much before it shattered.

Chris hadn’t really wanted anyone’s company in a long time, not even Buck, but Vin was different. Even that first day he somehow knew he could relax and be exactly who he was with Vin, and that Vin wasn’t going to judge him for it. Vin accepted whatever came with a calm equanimity Chris envied, and within a day or two he had realized that just having Vin around helped him find a little of that calmness in himself. A few words from Vin or even just looking into Vin’s eyes could distract him from his own worries and pain as thoroughly as anything ever had.

Chris knew he was getting in too deep when finding out there was a price on Vin’s head didn’t affect how much he liked him, but by then it was too late. Vin was fearless and had a sense of humor that meshed well with Chris’ own, and when he met Vin’s gaze in a fight he couldn’t help but grin, feeling everything but the rush of battle drain away.  Vin’s blue eyes held everything he was thinking and feeling, if only Chris looked for it, and he found himself looking often to catch that glimpse into Vin’s soul.

It didn’t take him long after that to realize what it was about looking into Vin’s eyes that seemed so familiar, and when he did it shocked him right down to the core. For the first time since he lost his wife, Chris saw a chance at forever in a pair of changeable blue eyes that so often held amusement even in the worst situations.

The realization scared him into seeking out Buck, who was staying away from Vin more because he didn’t like Indians than because of anything Vin had done, but it didn’t take long for Chris to miss the quiet tracker. JD was well on his way to being drunk, and Chris was only trying to help when JD suddenly blew up at him, giving him a decent excuse to leave. He didn’t hesitate even a little before he headed off towards the main fire pit to go listen to Vin talk with two young Seminole braves that had befriended him. Chris couldn’t understand half of what they said because they kept lapsing into the Seminoles’ native language, but he liked seeing Vin laugh enough that he didn’t really mind.

Chris later thought that he probably should have lit out as soon as he realized how much he liked having Vin close to him, should have gotten as far as he could from the man who _felt_ like an old friend even though they knew almost nothing about each other, but he didn’t. He found himself coaxing Vin to ignore his own problems for a while instead, and when he failed, he surprised himself as much as Vin when he promised to go with the tracker to deal with the bounty on his head when the time came.

Meeting Judge Travis when they stopped in Four Corners to get supplies and rest up a day before the trip was unexpected, and a little unwelcome as far as Chris was concerned. Getting drunk hadn’t helped -- had in fact resulted in him saying more than he meant Vin to know about his state of mind -- though Vin had thankfully taken it in stride just like he seemed to accept everything else thrown his way. They soon wound up in the middle of the Judge’s fight as much because they couldn’t turn their backs as because they wanted to be there.

That Vin stuck by Chris through it all and helped wherever he was needed, usually before Chris even realized he needed the help, cemented whatever was growing between them. It felt a little odd still to Chris to have someone he could count on to have his back, but nothing he did could make him forget how much he liked having Vin there by him. When the Judge asked them to stay after it was all over, Chris was very glad the Judge left him for last. If Vin had said no, he would have ridden out with him and not looked back.

Chris liked their new friends, and he was glad to be around Buck again even though they were still on shaky ground, but the other five men weren’t enough to make him stay. The friendships he had so recently forged – or reforged, in Buck’s case – couldn’t compare to whatever it was that drew him to Vin. Vin had agreed to stay though, so Chris hadn’t been forced to air his loyalties there in front of their friends.

It was surprisingly easy to settle in to the job as lawmen, and turned out to be a lot more fun than Chris had expected it to be. Before Chris realized what had happened, he and Vin were damned near inseparable, working side-by-side most every day trying to make something out of Four Corners. It was a rough job, but it gave them a good excuse to kick some ass on a daily basis and Vin seemed to enjoy that at least as much as Chris did. They both thrived on the rush of battle and the high after a victory, and Vin was always ready and willing to leap into a fight and watch his back.

Chris could soon be found most evenings sprawled in a chair on the boardwalk or in a saloon with Vin lounging nearby, and he couldn’t help but think life was good. It had been years since Chris felt so nearly content, and it didn’t escape him exactly what had changed. It had been easier than Chris deserved for he and Buck to fall back into a friendship almost as close as they had been before Sarah and Adam died, but it wasn’t Buck that Chris found himself looking for whenever he went through a door. There always seemed to be just one person his thoughts roamed to when he was idle, one pair of crinkly blue eyes that found their way into his thoughts and even his dreams entirely too often for his peace of mind.

Buck had known Chris nearly a dozen years and taken more shit from him than any sane man should, but it was Vin that Chris found himself wanting to be with most of the time. It was Vin that Chris wanted working beside him on the parcel of land he bought when he realized he wouldn’t be moving on, and it was Vin that Chris shared a fire with most evenings, talking about everything or nothing at all. Chris had never really been able to enjoy an evening of quiet relaxation with Buck, who felt compelled to fill the silence with gossip or raunchy stories, but Vin enjoyed a stretch of companionable silence as much as Chris did.

Chris had tried not to think about what it all added up to until one night in the shadows of his own cabin, not long after the outer walls and roof were finished for the second time. He was more than a little drunk, enough that he knew he’d wake with a killer headache, so he went to hang a blanket on the nails above the window to keep the sun out of his eyes the next morning. A glance out the window had found Vin standing near the porch shirtless and barefoot, his wet skin catching the moonlight and his long hair slicked back with water. Vin was so close to the window as he stood and watched the horses graze that Chris could see him shivering slightly in the cold night air. The thin buckskin pants Vin wore that night had clung to his damp skin in fascinating ways, and Chris just stood there staring until Vin finally turned and went to climb into that old wagon of his.

Chris was at the door reaching for the latch before he realized that he was hard and that he wanted very badly to go invite Vin into his bed, even if it was just a bedroll on the floor. The shock of that realization should have been enough to cool his arousal, but it wasn’t. He bit the inside of his lower lip bloody to stay quiet when he jerked off later, thinking about Vin no matter how determinedly he tried to think of a woman, and came so hard he passed out.

In the morning he tried to convince himself it had been a fluke, product of drinking too much and being alone with Vin too long while they worked together on his cabin, but a trip to visit a lady friend in Purgatorio didn’t help. He still kept catching himself watching Vin and wanting him more than Chris had wanted anyone in years, and wondering how Vin would react. He knew Vin had spent a lot of time with the Comanche and Kiowa, and he had heard the snide rumors that Indians didn’t have the same views about sex that white settlers did. He wasn’t sure exactly what they _did_ think, though, and he wasn’t about to ask that kind of question of anyone, friend or not.

Still, it wasn’t long before he had talked himself into arranging to be in the bathhouse at the same time as Vin. Vin was already in the water when Chris stripped down, and he caught Vin watching him just as he finally made it into the water. There was nothing else to really do in the bathhouse if you wanted to linger for a long hot soak, something Vin usually did whenever he paid for a bath in the winter, so Chris convinced himself it didn’t mean anything until it happened again about a week later. That time Chris was first into the water and got to watch Vin strip, and the glimpses he caught of Vin looking at his body, looking down into the water to try to see more even, convinced him Vin was interested. He just had no clue what to do about it.

Chris began to make sure he bathed when Vin was around, hoping Vin would join him, and he was seldom disappointed. He had never looked at a man and wanted him before, but he soon found himself looking at Vin and idly fantasizing about exploring that lithe, muscular body of his. It was maddening to have Vin so close and yet untouchable, but the alternative – _not_ having Vin so close – was simply unacceptable. Several times he convinced himself to say something to Vin, to take that chance and lay it all on the line, but every time something stopped him. Someone would walk in or Vin would say something that led into a different conversation, and another chance would be gone before he knew it.

It was nearly spring again before Chris realized what kept him from taking the lead and following up on one of those glances Vin snuck at him while he dried off after a bath. He didn’t just want to fuck Vin’s perfect little ass six ways from Sunday and have whatever was between them end with that. He wanted something he had promised himself never to need again, something he had almost convinced himself didn’t really exist. He knew what kind of hell was sure to rain down if anyone figured out what kind of feelings he was having for another man, but he couldn’t make himself care. The possibility of a bullet or a rope was nothing compared to everything Vin meant to him, and he finally admitted to himself that he wanted Vin at his side and in his bed until the day he died.

The fact he’d gone and fallen like a rock for another man never stopped being a surprise, but as time passed it stopped scaring him. After riding with Vin for so long, it just didn’t matter anymore that Vin was as male as he was. For the first time in his life he had someone who understood him – black moods and all – as no one else ever had, not even Sarah. It was a novel experience for Chris to feel attracted to somebody that was a better rider than he was, a better shot than he was with a rifle, and who had a taste for battle that surpassed his own. What kind of equipment Vin kept in his pants couldn’t affect how Chris felt when he saw Vin ride in after even just a day apart, or how his world seemed to brighten when he saw Vin laugh.

A few months after Chris had finally accepted just how deep his feelings ran, Vin’s sense of duty and taste for danger had led to Vin signing on to help the Marshal from Eagle Bend track down two brothers who had killed a man. The men had been on foot when Marshal Reed lost them in the hills just ten miles north of Four Corners, and Vin had ridden out with the Marshal expecting to be home in two days at the most. Chris was just starting to worry the evening of the third day when JD burst into the saloon to tell him Peso had just run through town with Vin unconscious in the saddle, and he was headed towards Chris’ place at a gallop. The ride to the cabin had never seemed so long, and Chris had feared the worst when he saw Peso waiting at the barn with Vin slumped forward on his neck.

Peso had been lathered with sweat and wild-eyed, attacking anyone who got near him at first, but eventually Chris and Pony managed to shoulder him into the barn. Chris had followed Peso inside while the others waited at the door, and he spent what seemed like ages coaxing and soothing the black gelding before Peso finally stood still to be touched, though he shook like a leaf the whole time.

Chris vividly recalled when he put his hand on Peso’s dark shoulder and it came away bloody, but his memories of what happened in the barn after that were just a blur of fear. Somehow he got Vin out of the saddle into his arms and then he remembered hearing Peso screaming in the barn and trying to tear down the door while Chris hurried into the cabin with Vin. Ezra told him later that it took most of an hour for Peso to give up trying to get to Vin, and that Josiah and JD had both been bitten and kicked a dozen times getting the gelding stalled and unsaddled for the night even though Peso was injured and more exhausted than Ezra had ever seen him.

Chris’ next truly clear recollection was sitting in a chair by his own bed, praying as he had never prayed in his life. He was only vaguely aware of their friends nearby, or of the coffee that kept appearing in his cup, because every fiber of his being was focused on watching to be sure Vin kept breathing. The bloody furrow in Vin’s hair and the paleness of his fevered skin as Vin twitched restlessly brought home just how close Vin had come to death, and the possibility had left Chris cold. He couldn’t face going through that, not again, and knew with utter clarity that he wouldn’t even try to learn to live alone again. Sometime after midnight he decided that if Vin didn’t make it he would give Pony to Billy Travis, and then he’d take Peso far out into the canyon country to set him free before he finally ate that bullet he’d considered so many times before. He couldn’t think of one reason to try and survive if Vin died, and figured that with his track record the world would be better off without him.

Nathan kept spooning herbal teas into Vin’s mouth every hour through the night, changing the poultice on Vin’s head wound each time, and the sky was just beginning to lighten outside when Vin’s fever finally broke. Nathan settled into his bedroll in the floor nearby then for some much-needed sleep, and soon Chris and Ezra were the only ones awake, still watching Vin and waiting. Vin’s eyes finally opened a few hours after the sun rose, and Chris was there leaning over him in an instant. The crooked smile Vin gave Chris made his eyes sting and burn as he gave Vin an answering smile, and Chris would have surely done something embarrassing if Ezra hadn’t moved so quickly to awaken Nathan.

Chris had let Nathan and Ezra shoo him back so Nathan could check Vin’s wound and get some more medicine and some beef broth down him. Chris was glad of the chance to get control of himself, but he didn’t leave the room or relax until Vin was finally sleeping peacefully. Nathan insisted that everyone get out then and let Vin sleep, and Chris soon found himself in the corral with Peso. He never did remember the walk out there, or getting dried apples from the pantry even though his duster’s pocket was crammed full. He fed every one of them to Peso while he groomed the mustang, brushing away all of the dried blood with patient care, and he was very glad the others were keeping their distance so they wouldn’t see the way his hands shook or hear the things he said to Peso.

The bullet in Peso’s shoulder and what would have happened to Vin if Peso wasn’t able to bring him home scared Chris, and by the time he had Peso settled into his stall for the night he had made a decision. The thought of Vin dying alone along some trail was more than enough to convince Chris that their friends would just have to take care of each other whenever Vin had cause to ride out on a tracking job. Chris wasn’t going to stay behind anymore, trusting in Vin’s fighting ability and Peso’s good sense to keep them both alive. Peso was a once-in-a-lifetime horse, smart and fast and canny enough to keep himself and his rider alive in even the worst situations, but the plain and simple fact was that he wasn’t bulletproof.

Chris finally realized that day with Peso that his priorities had changed, and that he needed to do something about it. Their friends and the town they had jerked up out of lawlessness by its bootstraps still meant a lot to Chris, as much as his spread even, but there was something more important to him than any of it. Sure, he would fight without hesitation to protect the land he and Vin had put so much blood and sweat into, just like he would risk his life to protect the town, but if it was all gone tomorrow life would go on. Their friends were much more important than any place could be, but he had lost good friends during the war and knew he could live without even his friends if he had to.

Without him noticing exactly when, Chris’ view of the world had shifted. He had always thought the most important things were his friends and his home, and it came as a shock to realize that his concept of ‘home’ had changed. It was no one location anymore, no town or piece of land with a room full of familiar things.

Home was anywhere Vin Tanner happened to be.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Vin had no clue what Chris had seen in him that first day, and if Chris had told him he likely wouldn’t have believed it.

When Vin first met the tall black-clad gunslinger’s eyes across the street, his immediate reaction surprised him right down to his toes. Vin hadn’t met many people he could count on in his life, but one look into Chris Larabee's eyes and Vin found himself thinking that there was a man he wanted to ride the river with. He was agreeing to go along with whatever Chris had in mind before he knew it, long before either of them said a word. A closer meeting didn’t shake the urge to stand by Chris, and in fact made his certainty in Chris grow even stronger despite how little they said to each other. His instincts told him to follow that man through fire if he had to, and that it’d be worth every second of the danger the gunfighter was sure to find.

Vin tried to resist the urge to follow Chris into another fight minutes after they saved Nathan’s life together, wary of such an unfamiliar impulse when he had problems of his own that needed dealt with. Vin had been his own boss since he was just a boy, and by the time he was grown had learned where and how he wanted to live better than most at that age. He usually spent much of his time alone or with a few people, far from towns and settlers when he could manage it, but he had never been good at fighting his instincts. Something down deep told him to stick by Chris and follow wherever Chris might decide to lead him, even if that meant staying in a town that had already begun wearing on his nerves.

When Chris instead headed away from town into a fight to help out a band of Seminoles, it surely didn’t help Vin fight the urge to follow him. Vin had a lot of respect for anyone who’d protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, and Chris was risking his neck for a band of Seminoles and half-breeds that reminded Vin of his own childhood family, or one of them at least. He knew what it was like to live in such a desolate place, just trying to stay alive and together and live their lives without the constant persecution so many settlers turned on the tribes out of fear. As a boy he had roamed between several bands very similar, always forced to move on because some settler had spotted him and wanted to 'save him' from the 'red savages'. His red hair and blue eyes marked him as white even after the red darkened into brown as he got older, and settlers always seemed to panic when they saw a white child with a Kiowa tribe, going near insane if he was with the Comanche or Apache. Nobody ever listened to him when he said he _wanted_ to be with the tribes, so he learned to make sure the settlers saw him run as soon as he had been spotted. If he didn't, people he cared about always wound up getting shot by those settlers who were 'rescuing' him.

The fight in the Seminole village wasn’t with settlers, though, it was with a band of renegade Confederates who refused to admit the war was long over. As someone who had worn the grey and fought loyally for the Confederacy even though he hadn’t agreed with slavery, the idea of prolonging the war held no appeal for Vin. If a Union major had offered him the recruiting package Major Beau Rutledge did – his own brand new Sharps rifle, all he could eat, and ten dollars a month and found – Vin would have probably fought for the Union, but he was still very sure he would have been disgusted with both sides by the time Lee rode into Appomattox.

By the end of the war Vin had been more than happy to burn his uniforms and head back west to go Comanche again and forget his time as a sharpshooter and scout. He had seen a lot in the war that made him wish for the lonesome deserts of his childhood, and had followed orders to kill quite a few men that he was sure hadn’t deserved to die. That any Rebel responded to the end of the war by wanting to fight on struck him as utter stupidity. There was nothing good or right about war as far as Vin was concerned, and he wanted no part of anything like it ever again, but that didn’t mean that he was willing to stand by while someone tried to bring that war to a tribe that had harmed no one.

Still, even though he wanted to fight for the Seminoles and help them against Anderson, Vin’s growing need for Chris’ company worried him. He felt like he’d be smarter to just clear out and never look back, but he seemed to find reasons not to every time he tried. Vin had thought it might _make_ him have to ride on when he told Chris there was a hefty price on his head, hoped it even because he had realized that he was going to need something major to help him ride away. It had stunned him when Chris didn’t hesitate to take his word that he wasn’t guilty, despite the fact he admitted freely to Chris that he couldn’t prove it. Chris had just looked into Vin’s eyes and accepted his word, and then the conversation had drifted easily towards other things.

It mystified Vin to have someone show such unwavering faith in him, and for so little reason. Chris knew almost nothing about him and seldom asked questions, but he obviously felt he knew Vin well enough to trust Vin's word. It made his loyalty to Chris even stronger than it had already been, but it made him even more anxious to get away, too. He tried several times to make himself move on the day after that night on the ridge near the Seminole village, but the more time he spent near Chris the less he really wanted to fight the urge to stay. It felt _right_ to stand at Chris’ shoulder and face whatever came, and he wanted to keep that feeling.

The ride back to town after the battle was won gave Vin too much time to think though, and by the time he found Chris in the saloon he had convinced himself to ride away. He figured Chris would back down from the idea of riding out with him and was ready to accept it when Chris distracted him by talking about wanting whiskey and a bed and more whiskey. The ideas that gave Vin distracted him enough he hardly knew what was happening before Chris had agreed to ride to Tascosa with him.

Riding out the next morning got put on hold because of the storm and then because of the trouble with the judge and that rancher, and then it seemed like things just piled one on top of the other. By the time the Judge offered them a job as lawmen a couple days later, Vin had stopped trying to tell himself he’d stay ‘just one more day’ and accepted that he didn’t really want to ride out alone. He took the job, sure that Chris wouldn’t be able to walk away from a town that needed them so badly, and he was right.

Vin relaxed a bit more around Chris after that and soon spent hours at a time in his company for no better reason than he wanted to, made easier by the fact Chris seemed to like having him around. Vin’s quiet ways and tendency to keep things to himself didn’t affect Chris’ trust, despite Buck’s vocal doubts about Vin’s motives, and Vin slowly began to let himself rely on Chris’ friendship. They had a similar tendency not to speak unless they had something worth saying, and a streak of dark humor running wide through them that could scare people who didn’t know how to handle it. They fell into an easy rapport that made them closer than Vin had ever been to another person.

Vin knew that meeting Chris had changed something in him almost from that first day, but it took more than a few comments from Buck for him to realize that Chris was changing as well. Buck had known Chris for years and he was often shocked that Vin knew some tidbit of Chris’ past that Chris refused to talk even to Buck about. Buck was usually annoyed by the way Chris trusted Vin, but it puzzled him too, and sometimes Vin got the feeling it hurt Buck more than a little. Buck had taken more abuse from Chris than any other man alive, sacrificed more for Chris’ sake than was smart, and yet it was Vin that Chris turned to when he needed a friend more often than not. Sometimes it amazed Vin that Buck could stand to look at him at all, but they eventually became friends anyway, if not as close as Vin might have liked them to be.

It was easier for the rest of the Seven to accept the unwavering friendship between Vin and Chris, not having known either of them before Chris and Vin met, but that didn’t mean that they never wondered about it. JD often asked the others, especially Buck, how it was that Vin and Chris could say more with a look than JD could explain in half an hour, but Buck never really had an answer for him. Vin had heard Josiah try to explain their friendship to JD only once, telling JD that Chris and Vin had a connection that was deeper than most men ever found and JD should just accept it as part of them because something like that didn’t change. Josiah had gone on to say it was a precious thing and that JD would be luckier than most if he ever found such a connection himself, but Josiah hadn’t been willing to say any more when Nathan had butted in to ask Josiah exactly what he meant.

Ezra sometimes gave Vin a knowing look early in their friendship that made him wonder what Ezra truly thought about his friendship with Chris, but eventually Ezra relaxed enough to reveal he was amused by it, not condemning. Ezra’s attitude about the situation drew Vin and Ezra closer, and it wasn’t long before Vin counted himself lucky that Ezra considered him a friend. Vin hadn’t had many close friends since he left the Comanche tribe he lived with after the war, and none like Ezra. The gambler was a very private man who trusted almost no one and seldom let even those he claimed as his friends get close to him, but for some reason he let Vin past the walls that kept everyone else at a distance. Vin soon considered Ezra his best friend other than Chris, who meant more to Vin than any friend by then, and he was more than a little proud that Ezra seemed to feel the same way.

Ezra was the first to teasingly accuse Vin and Chris of reading each other’s minds, but it soon became a running joke among the people who knew them best. Vin always just laughed about it, even though he knew the jokes weren’t too far off from the truth. He and Chris communicated effortlessly with glances and tiny flickers of expression a lot of people never even noticed, so they could easily have a meaningful conversation in less than ten words. It wasn’t something Vin had ever experienced before he met Chris, even with the few close friends he’d had, but he reveled in it. They said the important things and the rest passed between them as easy as breathing without even Vin understanding just how it was Chris had come to know him so well. It made his friendship with Chris feel that much closer even though they often spoke less than a dozen words to each other for hours, sometimes even _days_ at a time. They didn’t really need to.

Because of Chris, Vin was happy to be tied down to a job as a lawman, and he had more friends than he’d ever had at once before. There were six men – and he did count JD as a man, despite how green he still was about some things – that would fight next to him and risk their lives if he asked them to, and Vin was careful not to take advantage of that trust. Sure, maybe they were all fighting for things Vin had never thought he’d get mixed up in, but as time went on he realized the benefits of what they were doing were pretty nice. Knowing Chris had made him into a better man, and Vin liked what he was becoming.

It took Vin a long time to realize that somewhere along the line his feelings for Chris had gotten deeper than any he'd ever had before, but he had no intention to say anything about it even after he was aware of it. Vin grew up an orphaned part-Kiowa kid that had learned all kinds of things living between two races, including the fact that his taste in bedfellows wasn’t even remotely accepted among settlers. Vin’s fondly recalled teenage years of chasing buffalo and usually winding up in the furs of some young warrior _had_ to be a far cry from anything that might have happened to Chris. Chris didn't talk much about his past, but Vin knew he had grown up in a different world, youngest of five and the only one to be cursed with a wild streak a mile wide that just didn't fit in with a devoutly Irish Catholic family of Illinois farmers.

It didn’t take five minutes for Vin to decide exactly how to handle his feelings once he realized what they were. Vin was no stranger to the things men could do together, but he was pretty sure that Chris had never done any of it, or even _wanted_ to. Chris loved women and treated even the cheapest whore like a fine lady as long as she was with him, and Vin was sure he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of competing with that. He knew how much Chris enjoyed his trips to whatever brothel was nearby when Chris got the urge to blow off some steam, and wasn’t even jealous when Chris would quietly slip away to visit whatever lady had caught his eye at the moment.

Vin didn’t begrudge Chris any happiness he could find, no matter who it was with, and was content as long as he could be near him and watch Chris’ back. It took Vin a long time to really adjust to what he had, but he finally had done so and he wouldn't have changed Chris if he could, beyond the obvious thing. He figured that as long as he could keep his mouth shut he’d be able to spend his time with the man he cared about more than he’d ever cared for anyone in his life, and that had to be better than risking everything. He wanted more when he let himself think about it, but he’d never felt so strongly about anyone before and he was sure he could live without the rest as long as he could be near Chris.

Vin knew he could live without sex for the simple reason he already had for a good long while by then. He had decided years ago that he wasn’t going to risk his neck for half an hour in some stranger’s bedroll. There was just no way in hell it could possibly be worth the consequences, which he had the unfortunate luck to see up close and personal when he was a teenager. Because of that choice he was pretty much celibate, and he had been since before he left the Comanche tribe he lived with just after the war. It had been so long since Vin was with a man that he didn’t really mind celibacy anymore and got by just fine with his hands and a vivid imagination, except for the rare occasions he got dragged to a brothel by a friend who was trying to ‘help’. He didn’t like whorehouses and he did his best to avoid them, but he had paid for a whore more than once when he didn’t have any other choice.

The idea of being with a woman didn’t excite Vin, but he _did_ enjoy being touched and the sex was usually as good as when he took care of things himself, though seldom any better than that. Whores always seemed to think it endearing that Vin was so ‘shy’ with them, and he had encouraged that belief even though his slow response to them definitely wasn’t because he was embarrassed. He wasn’t about to explain to _anyone_ that he’d never met a woman who could get him in the mood without touching him, especially not a whore he’d likely never see again. Once they got their hands on him he didn’t have any problem reacting like he was supposed to, so he could get by well enough when he got backed into a corner and had to. He didn’t like it enough to seek it out, but he could think of worse ways to spend half an hour.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

 

 

Vin and Chris had been on the trail of three outlaws for right at a week, and they both agreed it had been worth the trip even though there was no bounty on the men. The three outlaws had killed a homesteader named Rory Calhoun a dozen miles southeast of Four Corners and then beaten and raped his wife before they stole the family’s horse and rifle. They rode out through town afterwards bold as day – Vin had even seen them and admired one of their horses, a distinctive medicine hat paint – before they disappeared into the canyon country to the southwest.

The outlaws had left the Calhoun woman with no way to protect herself or even get help except for her son Danny, who had hidden from the outlaws at his mother’s insistence. The boy was only nine, but he knew his ma, Lorrie, had been hurt badly by the men. He had heard everything while he was down in the hidden root cellar under the kitchen floor, scared that the men would kill his mother like they had killed his father. He had waited what seemed like hours after they left before his mother finally said it was safe to come out, all the time scared she was dying and just didn’t want him to see.

Lorrie had needed a doctor’s care too badly to argue when Danny said he was going for help. Danny had told the Seven later that he ran to the closest neighbor’s place as fast as he could run. He had intended to get John Rawlins to ride into town for Nathan, but Danny found no one home on the Rawlins farm and both horses were gone. He was determined to get help for his mother, and he only waited a short time at the Rawlins farm before he turned towards Four Corners on foot.

The boy spent a long night on the trail to town, running until he couldn’t any more and then resting until he could gather the strength and breath to run again. A farmer found him by the trail early the next morning, too exhausted and sore-footed to do more than plod along slowly, and pulled Danny up into his buckboard for the last two miles to town. The farmer spotted Josiah and Nathan leaving the restaurant by the jail, and dropped Danny off almost literally into Nathan’s arms just as the two men were about to cross the street.

Josiah went to gather the others while Nathan bandaged Danny’s battered feet, and soon the Seven were headed out to the Calhoun place. Danny refused to be left behind, so he rode in front of Buck, eating a breakfast of biscuits and sausage while Buck coaxed the whole story out of the boy. The others listened in near silence to Danny’s recounting of the day before, beginning with his father greeting three strangers and being shot while Danny and Lorrie watched from inside the house. By the time Danny was telling them about his long night on the trail to town, all seven men were livid, though they tried to hide it from the boy.

The Seven were always angry when an outlaw went after people in their town, but the anger they felt on the ride to the Calhoun farm couldn’t begin to compare to the rage that settled in after they finally saw how battered Lorrie Calhoun was. She had been kicked in the knee and in the ribs for trying to run, and then she was beaten severely before she was raped and left unable to even stand up and move from the sitting room floor to her bed. She had dressed herself as best she could before she let Danny leave the cellar, and Danny had made up a pallet for her on the floor with the blankets and pillows from the beds before he went for help, but it still wasn’t a very comfortable place to spend the night. Lorrie was in shock and was as pale as death, in serious pain and too hurt to do anything about it.

Seven angry-looking, obviously dangerous men crowding into her home had understandably scared Lorrie so soon after she was attacked, and she kept cringing away whenever one of them moved towards her. Josiah was too angry to be much help, and Buck, Ezra, and Vin were mutually agreed on among the Seven to be the ones frightened ladies and children trusted most easily, making it fall to them to calm her down enough to accept Nathan’s aid. Lorrie was intimidated by Buck’s height and obviously afraid of him, so he soon left the task of calming her to Vin and Ezra. It helped that one of her close friends, Gloria Potter, was close to both of them and had mentioned before that she should speak with either of them if she needed help and her Rory wasn't around. Gloria adored Vin especially and often spoke of how sweet he was, and had made sure that Lorrie, who was wary of the town's gunslingers, knew that Vin might look a bit rough around the edges but he was a gentleman and would do anything to help a lady in need.

Vin and Ezra spent most of an hour getting Lorrie to drink Nathan’s teas and talking softly to her before she was finally calm enough to let Nathan check her injuries. The other members of the Seven all wanted to shoot the outlaws on sight as they waited outside, fair fight or not, but Chris took it personally. He didn’t even wait for Nathan to finish treating Lorrie before he decided he would head out alone with Vin to hunt the three culprits down. He figured everyone else would be fully occupied holding down the fort in town and riding patrol just in case the outlaws circled around to hit again before Chris and Vin could get them. There was no way he wanted the town left unprotected while there were men in the area that would treat a lady the way Lorrie had been treated.

There had been more than a little argument about Chris making the decision for the others, of course, but none of them really doubted that Chris and Vin could handle three outlaws on their own so the argument didn’t last long. Nathan needed to stay a few days out on the Calhoun place with Lorrie and Danny to treat her injuries and take care of her until she was healed up enough to get around on her own, so he didn’t have to be convinced to stay behind. JD took his responsibility as a sheriff’s deputy seriously and only needed a reminder that the town counted on him before he reluctantly agreed to stay. Josiah had a church service to give the next day, still the closest thing the town had to a preacher, and that and the need for someone to patrol the area was enough to still his arguments, if not his seething rage over what had been done to Lorrie.

Ezra wanted to go with Chris and Vin as well, which seemed to surprise Buck and Nathan even though Vin knew Ezra was too much of a gentleman to stand idly by after any woman was treated so poorly. Ezra had strong arguments for why he wouldn’t be needed in town, but Chris asked Ezra to stay anyway. Ezra might have been able to convince Chris to let him ride along, but Vin had known that the way Chris worded the request would get Ezra’s cooperation even before Ezra had given in gracefully. Vin knew just as well as Chris did that Ezra would do almost anything if Chris asked it as a personal favor to him.

Buck was the most reluctant to see Chris and Vin ride out alone, and his anger when asked to stay behind was motivated at least as much by the way ‘Miss Lorrie’ had been treated as by the fact he was worried about his friends riding into trouble without him to watch their backs. As the current sheriff, though, he couldn’t really deny it when Chris finally got mad and said it was Buck’s job to protect the town and its residents. Buck fussed and cussed and stomped around waving his arms and raving for a bit longer, hating the fact Chris was right. He finally gave in on one condition: if Chris and Vin weren’t back in a week the others would come after them.

JD, Josiah, and Nathan had all seconded Buck’s idea, and Chris and Vin agreed to the time limit more because they had no choice than because they expected to need help. Ezra had been the only one to stay quiet, but Vin had no doubts Ezra had agreed wholeheartedly with the idea of limiting their trip. He just didn’t speak up because Chris had asked Ezra to stay behind, and Ezra’s sense of honor wouldn’t let him suggest chasing them after the fact. It wouldn’t keep him from riding out if he truly thought Chris and Vin needed help, but he wouldn’t be hasty about it and he’d make every effort to do as Chris asked.

Danny had gotten a good look at the outlaws and their horses, and while everyone else was arguing about who would go after them, Vin was wishing he’d known that he needed to stop that distinctive paint he’d seen the day before. As soon as it was settled that Chris and Vin were going alone, Vin had walked the Calhoun place with Danny to get a good sense of the tracks he needed to find and then when they all headed back to town Vin took off ahead of them to pick the trail up west of town while the others put together supplies for a week. They weren’t taking a packhorse, so the food – bacon, beans, jerky, and biscuits – was loaded into an extra set of saddlebags tied onto Pony’s saddle for the trip, and Peso would carry a similar saddlebag of grain so he and Pony would be able to keep up a faster pace.

JD wanted to find some way he could help, so he wired the nearest federal marshals to see if the men were wanted anywhere else. A couple of hours of work left him with no warrants on the men, though he did find two lawmen who recognized the descriptions. The marshal in Ridge City in particular recognized the paint as belonging to a man he’d asked to leave town because he was way too rough with a saloon girl, but he had checked into the man’s background as well and found no warrants. JD had hightailed it out to Chris’ place after that, wanting to pass along what he’d found before Chris and Vin could leave, and rode into Chris’ yard just after Vin returned from his scouting trip.

Vin and Chris loaded up the horses while they listened to JD’s information about the outlaws, and then they lit out as fast as they could safely move without losing the outlaws’ trail or pushing Pony too hard. The black geldings were both in fine shape and they could cover a lot of ground in a day when their riders needed them to, but Peso would run Pony into the ground if they didn’t pay attention. Pony had enough heart for five horses and would run himself to death if it was asked of him, so it was up to Chris and Vin to make sure the loyal gelding wasn’t pushed too hard.

One of the outlaws was on a barefoot horse with a ragged hind hoof, and it had made it easy for Vin to pick out which set of tracks to follow when the outlaws left the main trail to head into the canyon country to the west. Tracking over rocky terrain slowed them down a few times, but for the most part they were able to concentrate on covering as much ground as they could between breaks to get off and walk the horses.

The terrain was familiar until they passed a few miles south of the Seminole village, but even being on unfamiliar territory didn’t slow them down. They pushed themselves and their horses hard enough that within two days they were right on the outlaws’ heels, despite starting out a day behind, but they were in such a hurry to catch up that they ran right into an ambush. They got through unscathed more because of the outlaws’ stupidity than because of their own skill, and when the outlaws mounted up to run Vin managed to kill the outlaws’ leader, who rode the paint.

The ambush and shooting skills of the outlaws hadn’t impressed Chris or Vin, so they didn’t make any effort to avoid another run-in. They rode hard and caught the outlaws again later that evening near a small tank of water in a box canyon, literally napping by their fire. They might not have fired a shot if it hadn’t been for the stolen Calhoun mare calling out to them as they snuck into the camp. As it was the two outlaws rolled out of their blankets shooting, though they didn’t even come close to hitting anything before Chris and Vin shot them.

Chris was so withdrawn while they buried the bodies the next morning that Vin finally asked him if he was all right, but he was more than a little surprised when Chris actually answered him. He told Vin that all he had been able to think about while they hunted the men was that his wife could have been used just as badly before she was murdered and he’d never know it. Vin finally understood the hatred that had driven Chris to push on as fast as Pony could stand, and knew that if he had lost someone he loved like Chris had – if he had lost _Chris_ in such a way – he likely would have felt the same.

They talked quietly for a little while over the last of their breakfast coffee, both making an effort to steer the conversation towards more cheerful topics. By the time they rinsed out the dishes they were both feeling better and looking forward to a more leisurely ride home. They loaded the three horses with everything off the outlaws that the Calhouns might be able to sell, right down to their boots, and headed home. There was close to thirty dollars in the saddlebags of the bay mare that got roped in right behind Pony for the trip home, and several guns and knives wrapped up in the bundles tied to the outlaws’ saddles, besides the worth of the horses.

The sorrel gelding with the ragged hoof that had made the outlaws so easy to track wasn’t anything special in Vin’s opinion, but the paint mare was nice enough Vin would have kept her himself if things were different. She was marked in a pattern that Indian tribes called a ‘medicine hat’, and he’d always liked the look almost as much as the legends that went along with it. The Comanche and Kiowa tribes Vin had spent his teenaged years with believed that a horse that was mostly white with a colored ‘hat’ on the ears and a ‘shield’ on the chest and flanks was almost supernaturally lucky, and there were stories among every tribe he had known of great warriors who rode them. Vin had known three remarkable medicine hats himself, war and buffalo horses that were smart and fearless and loyal to their last breath, and he had always wanted one of his own.

But, no matter how much Vin liked the paint mare’s looks, the Calhoun family definitely needed her a lot more than he did. He figured Danny needed some good luck to go his way after seeing his dad shot and then having to listen to his mother beaten and raped, and that any boy Danny’s age needed to have a horse of his own anyway. He wouldn’t mind too terribly much if they kept her, and if they didn’t he was sure Ezra would let him borrow the money to buy her for a fair price. He’d likely complain, knowing Ezra, but he wouldn’t hesitate to give Vin the money as long as Vin asked without an audience.

The gear on the horses would bring a pretty penny, so Vin planned on suggesting that Lorrie sell the sorrel and keep the flashy paint mare for her boy even though the paint was worth much more. The way Vin had caught Chris looking the mare over and checking her reactions to being poked and prodded, he figured Chris had the same idea. If he did, there was a good chance Chris would suggest Lorrie keep the paint before Vin got the chance to, which was just fine with Vin. A suggestion they agreed on would surely carry more weight with Lorrie than any suggestion just from Vin alone, and he was content to let Chris do the persuading if he could.

If Lorrie didn’t want to keep the mare, Vin was sure the paint would wind up grazing on Chris’ place, one way or another. He’d buy her from Lorrie if Chris didn’t beat him to it, and he knew Chris would let him turn her out on his place. Buck had said more than once that he was sure Chris couldn’t bear to raise horses again after his wife and son were murdered, but Vin had gotten the feeling Buck was speaking more about himself. Vin knew Chris still liked to have horses around to watch when he was relaxing on his porch, and he figured Chris wouldn’t be hard to talk into having a few head to play with when they had time. Fencing in the meadow near the barn wouldn’t be hard, especially if they roped their friends into helping out, and there was graze enough within sight of the house to support half a dozen horses easily.

Vin enjoyed watching horses graze of an evening as much as he knew Chris did, and he was sure they would both enjoy having a small herd to fool around with when they had time off. Vin spent most of his nights sleeping in Chris’ barn if they weren’t on the trail, and he figured that wasn’t going to change, even though he still had his wagon behind the livery in town. Chris’ loft had a great view when Vin couldn’t sleep, and the company when he woke before dawn was a lot better than he’d usually find in town, plus Peso liked Chris’ place as much as Vin did and was always happy to relax and graze in the meadow with Pony.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This chapter contains explicit sexual situations

Part 3

 

 

Vin was dirty and tired, thinking about the ten miles they had to cover yet to get home. His day had begun with him opening his eyes to find a scorpion perched about three inches from his nose, and he had been counting the miles until he was back home ever since. He wanted to clean up, eat, and sack out for the night somewhere he wouldn’t have to share his bedroll with rocks, sand, or _scorpions_. He hated the damned things; it hurt like hell when they stung him and always made him feel poorly for days afterwards. As far as he was concerned, the only things worse were wasps and hornets. At least a scorpion couldn’t _fly_.

A sudden explosion of driving rain over them was shock enough to jerk Vin out of his thoughts. He cringed away from the unexpected shower of cold water, some of which had managed to go down the back of his neck, and he thought some very uncomplimentary things about Mother Nature. It had been dark and cloudy all morning, hot and muggy as the sky kept making vague rumblings threatening a real springtime gully-washer, but Vin still hadn’t expected the sky to cut loose with such ferocity.

After a few minutes of squirming in his saddle because the rain dribbling down his back was so _cold_ after the heat of the morning, Vin glanced at Chris. Chris glanced over and met his gaze an instant later and then suddenly they were both laughing. They looked pitiful covered in reddish dust that had quickly gone to mud, and their horses weren’t any better off. They were more than a mile from the nearest shelter, surrounded by the rocky edge of the desert they had followed the outlaws into days before, and there was no chance they’d be getting out of the rain any time soon.

Vin was still snickering when Chris suddenly reined Pony to a halt and threw his hat back to hang from the stampede string, tipping his head back as he closed his eyes. Vin halted Peso and watched with amusement, wondering what was going through Chris’ head. Despite how easily he understood Chris most of the time, this was definitely one of those rare times he just couldn’t tell what Chris might be thinking.

Chris just sat there and let the rain wash over his face a moment before he shook the rain out of his eyes and grinned at Vin. “I dunno about you, but I could use a bath.”

Vin laughed and nodded, easily controlling Peso when the gelding began fidgeting restlessly at being stopped in the middle of a storm. “Reckon you could.”

Chris grinned a little wider. “And I still smell better ’n you do.”

Vin laughed again. “Prob’ly. You're the one used that fancy-smellin’ soap to shave this mornin’. It could likely make a skunk smell good if you slathered enough on it.”

Chris swung out of the saddle, ground tying Pony and then hanging his hat from the saddle horn. He looked over the saddle at Vin, smirking as he took off his duster. “I’ll have to remember to get you some for your birthday.”

Vin grinned, wondering how Chris planned to give him a birthday gift since _he_ didn’t know the date he was born. He knew which year and the month, or thereabouts, but there were a lot of days to pick from in September. “I’d just as soon not smell like flowers, cowboy. Buy me a steak instead.”

“Likely do that anyway, the way you're always broke.” Chris tipped his head slightly, flipping his duster across the saddle and smirking up at Vin. “You gonna join me? We’re gonna get soaked anyway, might as well get this dust off while we’re at it.”

Vin blinked, surprised, and then he grinned. He couldn’t help liking the sound of that idea, even if it was practically begging for trouble. “Hell, why not.”

Vin slid out of the saddle and dropped one of Peso’s reins to ground tie him, getting an irritated glare from the gelding and a nip on his shoulder for his troubles. Peso wouldn’t have argued if there were greenery close by, but stopping in the edge of a rocky desert that was quickly going to mud just wasn’t something he enjoyed, not when he was on familiar ground so close to home. The black mustang was grouchy after days on the trail and nights of grazing on mesquite, sagebrush, and weeds, and Vin knew he was long past ready to get home to the grassy meadow that Peso knew was waiting on him a few miles away.

Peso swung his head to bite again, ears pinned, and Vin tried to hit his muzzle. “Quit it.”

Peso snorted and easily avoided the blow, just as Vin had known he would, and shifted away slightly before he settled down to glare. Vin snickered and shook his head as he began slowly stripping out of his clothes, starting with the fringed coat that he wore as much to protect him from Peso’s teeth as anything else. The roar of the rain masked any sound outside of the immediate area as he scanned their surroundings over Peso’s back, and Vin’s innate caution wouldn’t let him relax without at least trying to look around first.

It didn’t take long to make sure there wasn’t anything in sight bigger than a bush except a low mesa just to the northwest and the treeline where the hilly edge of the desert gave way to brushy hill country and then woodlands to the northeast. He took off his hat to pull his shirt over his head, then flipped his soaked shirt over his saddle and coat before he reached for his gunbelt to remove it as well, unbuckling the tie-down and then unfastening the belt buckle. He buckled the belt again to hang it over his saddle horn and then he turned to check out the other side of the trail, opening his mouth to speak to Chris as he moved.

Whatever he had intended to say – and after he turned around he couldn’t remember what that was to save his life – never actually made it out of his mouth.

Chris had left his hat, duster, shirt, and gunbelt on Pony’s saddle and then moved to stand on a wide flat rock a short distance from the muddy trail, and his pants and boots were already piled near his feet. He was standing almost facing the trail and seemed oblivious to his audience, his head tipped back as he ran his fingers through his hair and then just let the rain wash over him. His eyes were closed and he had a rare relaxed smile on his face that made it obvious he enjoyed the feel of the cool rain on his skin after their long hot ride.

Vin hadn’t seen anything so completely mesmerizing in a long time.

Vin stared for several minutes with one hand still on his saddle and his mouth open slightly as he found his gaze following the path the water was taking down Chris’ throat. His attention wandered lower, following the rivulets tinged rusty brown by dust as they streamed down Chris’ chest and belly to disappear into the dense thatch of hair below. He swallowed hard when he finally saw that Chris’ cock was past half-mast and rising steadily. He had seen Chris fully hard only once, but he’d been too worried he’d get caught looking then to get much more than a glimpse. It was just as nice as he remembered though, and left no doubt in Vin’s mind why the working ladies in Purgatorio and Eagle Bend were always so pleased to see Chris ride in.

“Like what you see?” Chris asked suddenly, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the rain.

Vin jerked his gaze back up to Chris’ face, wide-eyed and blushing so hotly it felt like the rain hitting him should be turning to steam on contact. He couldn’t even _begin_ to find the words to try and talk his way out of this one. Looking a little too long in the bathhouse when there wasn’t much else to do was one thing, but being caught staring at Chris’ cock like a starving man was something else again. There just wasn’t a good reason for it that didn’t include him wishing for something he couldn’t have.

It took a while for Vin to realize that Chris didn’t look angry, instead giving him a familiar barely-there smirk. Vin was so relieved that he didn’t even try to hide it, letting out a breath he hadn’t even noticed he was holding as he relaxed slightly. If Chris wasn’t mad they could get through it. He likely wouldn’t enjoy it, and he’d make a fool of himself too like as not, but he could live with that.

Chris started towards Vin a moment later, walking slowly as he said, “I think you do. I’m also thinkin’ it’s not my imagination you always feel most like takin’ a bath whenever I’m in the bathhouse.”

Vin felt his face grow hotter again and finally looked away, his gaze finding a boulder far down their backtrail that looked kind of like a sleeping buffalo, if buffalo were ten feet tall. “I didn’t—“ he broke off, not willing to lie and not sure what to say if he didn’t, and then suddenly he realized that there was no going back.

Chris had obviously caught him before and seemed not to mind that Vin liked what he saw, acted in fact like he might honestly like the idea. If Vin was ever going to have a chance, he couldn’t ask for one much better than this one. Chris was in a good mood and seemed accepting of the idea Vin wanted him, and Vin realized he’d be a damned fool to deny it. Chris hated to be lied to and that was what Vin would have to do to get out of the situation he was in without admitting he wanted Chris more than he’d ever wanted anyone or anything in his life.

Vin took a deep breath and finally made himself meet Chris’ gaze again, unsuccessfully willing the tremble he could feel in his hands to still itself. He was rock steady facing a gun, even a _dozen_ guns, but admitting to Chris how he felt just about scared him to death and had him shaking like a leaf. “An’ if I have?”

Chris continued past Pony to stop just a few feet away from Vin before he spoke, that lingering hint of a smirk making him look a little wicked. “If you have, you might’ve noticed me takin’ my baths when I know you’re around to keep me company.”

Vin’s eyes widened even further and he stared into Chris’ familiar dark grey-green eyes, speechless. He hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of watching Chris in the bathhouse. The man didn’t have a shy bone in his body and put himself on display every time he bathed without even seeming to notice it. Vin liked to watch a lot more than he figured he should, but he had never expected to hear that Chris welcomed the attention. He’d been sure he was careful about stealing glimpses while Chris was distracted with bathing or getting dressed, but he should have known he couldn’t hide anything from Chris. Chris really could read his mind sometimes, seemed like.

Chris’ smirk finally slipped away as he took a step towards Vin, then another as he murmured, “And if you weren’t in such an all-fired rush to hide in a tub or behind a bath sheet, you might’ve noticed I’ve been lookin’ a little myself.” He lifted one hand, moving slow and deliberate as if he were trying not to scare Vin into moving away. It seemed like an eternity to Vin before Chris’ fingers rested lightly against his jaw and throat, his thumb tracing Vin’s lower lip. “I can’t say I ever wondered before I met you, but I’ve been havin’ thoughts about you that could get me shot if I didn’t think maybe you’ve been thinkin’ about those same things.”

Vin blinked away rainwater that had run down his forehead into his eyes as he leaned into Chris’ touch. He shivered slightly when Chris’ thumb ghosted across his lower lip again, but it wasn’t because of the rain. The storm was beginning to slack off and the rain didn’t really seem cold anymore, just pleasantly cool against his skin. He swallowed hard, still staring into Chris’ eyes, and admitted almost too quiet for Chris to hear, “I reckon we don’t want exactly the same thing, but maybe close enough to get by.” He felt like his skin was on fire from his hairline on down his neck to past his collarbone, he was blushing so hard, but hope made him bold. “I’ve been wantin’ somethin’ from you I kinda doubt you’ll be wantin’ me to do t’ you.”

Chris’ little smirk was back as his thumb stroked along Vin’s lip again, stepping just a bit closer as he placed his other hand on Vin’s waist. “Oh yeah?” he purred softly, leaning closer so their faces were only inches apart. “And what’d that be?”

Vin licked his lips and the tip of Chris’ thumb, tasting rain and dust and a hint of sweat, then hesitantly settled his hands on Chris’ bare hips as he whispered, “I want you to fuck me.” He caught Chris’ thumb between his lips and teeth before he could be tempted to say any more, tongue swirling around the callused skin as he sucked on it slow and steady.

 

~*~*~*~

 

It had been way too long since Chris was with anyone who really mattered, and the intensity of his feelings when he finally let himself act on them surprised him. He had almost forgotten how it felt to touch someone he cared for, someone that wasn’t just a conveniently willing body.

Simply running his thumb along Vin's lip was enough to make Chris’ pulse speed up and his breathing hitch, and the look in Vin’s eyes made him feel as if his heart might explode. He _knew_ how tough and capable Vin was, but cradling Vin’s jaw in his palm and looking into those shining blue eyes he found himself thinking that Vin was as delicate as blown glass. He knew suddenly that he could shatter Vin if he said the wrong thing, and the knowledge scared him. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt Vin, so he'd have to be careful just how fast he pushed and what he said.

Chris felt Vin’s hands settle on his hips then, the touch so light and hesitant it might not have been there at all, and then Vin finally spoke again. “I want you to fuck me,” he whispered, and then he was sucking on Chris’ thumb like it was a stick of candy.

Chris felt like something in his brain shorted out as he made a low strangled noise, cock twitching against his belly. Vin’s mouth was warm and wet and that tongue swirling against his skin was talented as hell, flicking and stroking like maybe he had an extra one in there somehow. Chris had no trouble imagining that enticing mouth on his cock, and just the idea was almost enough to make him come.

Chris’ cock gave another little jerk and he shuddered slightly, barely aware he spoke as he breathed out, “Oh yeah.” He pulled his thumb free of Vin's lips and slid his hand from Vin’s jaw to curve around the back of his neck, tugging him closer, and then suddenly they were kissing with the rain still coming down steady over their bodies.

Vin’s agile tongue was just as talented at kissing, his hands roaming up Chris’ slick back to curl around his shoulders and hold on, and Chris kicked himself for waiting so long. All the reasons he had waited for Vin to feel safe enough to make the first move suddenly seemed like a complete waste of time they could have had together. Vin had been hesitant to admit how he felt, but Chris finally realized it hadn’t been because Vin wasn’t sure what he wanted. Vin hadn’t been sure what _Chris_ wanted, probably because Chris hadn’t made any attempt to claim what he finally realized was his for the taking. Chris was seldom as patient about anything as he had been while he thought he was waiting for Vin.

Chris let out another low noise as he pulled Vin against him, hips jerking slightly when the head of his cock nudged against the slick warm skin of Vin’s belly. The sodden trousers were rough against the length of Chris’ cock, right on the edge of painful without quite going there, and the sharp contrast of smooth warm skin against the crown of his cock and wet canvas against the rest made his hips twitch again.

Vin made a hungry little noise and pressed even closer, and then Chris could feel the cloth-covered length of Vin’s cock pressed against his upper thigh. He tore his lips away from Vin’s and muttered huskily, “You gotta get rid of them britches before one of us hurts somethin’ we’d rather not.”

Vin let out a low laugh, breathing shallow and ragged. “Have to let go of me for that, but I’m sure willin’.”

Chris realized he still had one hand in Vin’s hair while the other was low at the small of Vin’s back, holding Vin against him so tight that it would have been near impossible to get a hand between them. “Might help, huh?” He loosened his grip to step back before he suddenly decided he didn’t want to let Vin go, even to strip. He grinned as he reached for Vin’s britches, murmuring, “Maybe I should just get rid of ‘em myself.”

“Might make things go faster at that,” Vin agreed with a sudden grin, blue eyes sparkling as he steadied himself on Chris’ shoulders and toed out of his worn old boots.

Chris made short work of Vin’s buttons despite the pants being waterlogged, and Vin’s cock sprang free as soon as Chris began to shove the sodden canvas down, his gaze intent and wicked. “Always did think you had the right of it, leavin’ off your drawers when it’s warm out.” His hands slid down Vin’s thighs, marveling at how pale Vin’s skin was as he crouched to push the britches down the rest of the way. He suddenly noticed that Vin’s cock was only inches from his mouth and stared at it even as he lifted one of Vin’s feet to tug off the pants and Vin’s muddy sock, then moved to the other foot.

Vin’s hands tightened on Chris’ shoulders as he let Chris strip away the last of his clothing, looking nervous. “I never expected this to really happen,” he blurted suddenly, making Chris look up at him. “Figured it was just me wanted it.”

“You figured wrong,” Chris said, staring up into Vin’s eyes a moment as he wondered if it was desire that made them seem such a vivid shade of blue or if it was the light playing tricks because of the storm. His hands slid slowly back up Vin’s legs to his hips, thumbs stroking along Vin’s sharp hipbones as he let his gaze fall to Vin’s cock again. “I reckon I figured a few things wrong too, though,” he added softly. “Never expected I’d want to try this near as much as I do.”

Instinct had always worked for everything else Chris did in bed, and he figured if he just leapt right off in the deep end with Vin he’d figure it out pretty quick. He’d had his cock sucked enough to know that even an inept attempt was pretty nice as long as no teeth were involved, so he figured he could do well enough to get by. He had the advantage of knowing what he liked himself, after all, and he knew it had been a hell of a long time since Vin got laid. He was sure that as hard and ready as Vin was, it wasn't going to take much.

Chris leaned in closer, one hand shifting to encircle Vin’s cock to gently ease back the foreskin and then hold it as he took a good look and tried to decide how to begin. After a moment he licked slowly across the head of Vin’s cock, equal parts curious about the taste and wanting to see what Vin’s reaction would be. He looked up along Vin’s body as he swirled his tongue slowly, and if his mouth hadn’t been occupied he would have smirked at the way Vin whimpered and his whole body shuddered. He did it again and Vin’s cock pulsed against his tongue, making him groan softly at the taste that flooded his mouth.

Chris had tasted himself before, usually in a lady's mouth after she did a particularly good bit of cocksucking, but it had never tasted quite like Vin did. Chris’ own juices were salty and often bitter with a metallic aftertaste that really didn’t entice much at all, though not the worst thing he had gotten a taste of during sex, for sure. He had teased a whore once for making faces at the way he tasted, and he had gotten a lecture about how what a man took in could make his seed taste downright terrible. The whore had been pointedly glaring at the cheroot and cheap whiskey that Chris had been enjoying that night, and tried telling him to lay off the beef and beans, too.

Chris had just laughed and thought she was nuts then, but now he wondered if maybe she wasn’t on to something. He figured it couldn’t be the beef and beans, mostly because that was about all he and Vin had eaten in the last week, but he did wonder if Vin was sneaking candy on the sly to be so salty-sweet. It would make a sort of twisted sense, and explain a bit about why Buck was so popular with the ladies.

Buck didn’t have just one sweet tooth; he had a whole mouth full and always had a stick of candy or a chunk of horehound tucked in a pocket somewhere.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The rain had nearly stopped, but the sky was still so dark there was no doubt there would be more on the way. The breeze kicked up by the spring storm kept the temperature cooler than it had been even at dawn that morning. It was almost too cool to be outdoors naked, but Chris and Vin were too wrapped up in each other to notice what the weather was doing, or anything else for that matter.

The horses could have high-tailed it for town and their riders probably wouldn’t have noticed, but the two black geldings still stood to either side of them, waiting for their riders to remember them. Pony didn’t really care what the men were doing, patient enough to stand where Chris had left him as long as he was asked to. His rider hadn’t ever done anything like he was doing just then, but he knew it must be important for his rider and the man with the nice hands to stop in a storm. He would wait as long as they needed him to and trusted that they would get him to shelter and food when they could. He often didn’t understand why people did the things they did, but he had learned young to trust even when it made no sense.

Unlike Pony, Peso was annoyed to be standing in the rain. He kept his ears pinned as he looked around between glances at his rider and the man they rode with, but he didn’t make any move to interrupt them or run off. He had seen his rider make similar noises with another man when they were first getting to know each other and knew his rider would have a fit if he bothered them unless they were in danger. Peso knew he would have to be the one to guard if they were to stay safe, so he kept watch on the surrounding area even though he would have much rather headed home. He could have left his rider to walk for being so stupid as to stop in the rain, but he wouldn’t. His rider had earned his loyalty, even in the rain.

The three Calhoun horses were tired enough that they were willing to stand quietly even in the rain. Peso wouldn’t let a horse he didn’t know well get too close while Vin was on his back, so Pony had been leading the liberated stock since the outlaws were killed. The sorrel was closest to Pony, tied to Pony’s rear cinch ring and standing with his head low and one front foot well ahead of the other so his weight stayed off that leg. He might have fidgeted and put up a fight about standing in a storm another time, but just then he was too tired and sore to bother. The rest was welcome, despite the rain, and he would stand while the sky fell if it meant not having to move for a while.

The bay mare wasn’t quite as patient as Pony or as tired as the sorrel. She was used to quiet, respectful people who treated her well and left her alone in a stall or a pasture when she wasn’t working, and being tied to other horses wasn’t really to her liking. She wasn’t sure she liked Chris or Vin either for that matter, and kept jerking her head when either of them made a noise, ears flicking back nervously. She wasn’t used to people acting like they were and she didn’t much like it, but she was tired enough not to try to bolt. The two men who had taken her from the ones who made her run so hard weren’t mean, but she still preferred her own man and the little one who was always so nice to her.

The paint mare was less tired than either the bay or the sorrel, and very interested in what Chris and Vin were doing. Her ears flicked each time they made a sound but she didn’t fidget or act nervous, her gaze never leaving the two men for a moment. She had been with men since she was still a nursing foal, but she had never seen any act like these two did. Still, they were good men, much better than the last one to ride her, and they treated her well enough that she was perfectly happy to stay with them. Their strange ways fascinated her so much that she was content to watch them even in the rain, her head lowered and stretched towards them curiously.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Vin could hardly believe what was happening as he bit his lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood and stared down at Chris. He was holding on to Chris’ shoulders so hard he was sure there’d be bruises later, but he knew better than to let go unless he wanted to wind up in the mud. His knees felt like they were turning to water as he watched Chris licking almost thoughtfully at the tip of his cock. Vin hadn’t ever dared to even fantasize about Chris doing such a thing, and he had no idea how he would keep from shooting all over Chris’ face if he kept it up much longer.

Chris’ grip tightened on Vin’s hip and the base of his cock after a few slow sweeps of his tongue, drawing another needy little noise from Vin. Chris looked up to meet Vin’s gaze, his eyes suddenly wicked and shining, and then Chris’ mouth was wrapped around the head of Vin’s cock and he was sucking like his life depended on it.

Vin cried out softly, unable to help it, muscles jumping as his knees buckled slightly and he tried to thrust even though Chris easily held him still. Vin gasped for breath, his gaze focused on Chris’ lips wrapped around his cock, and then Chris pulled off with a pop. Vin almost wound up in the mud despite the death grip on Chris’ shoulders as he shuddered and gasped, “Fuck.”

“That’s next,” Chris said cheerfully, that wicked glint still bright in his eyes. He licked his lips and then added with a smirk, “I want to finish this first, though.”

Vin whimpered and leaned heavily on Chris’ shoulders, praying he could stay on his feet for a little more of that exquisite torture Chris was doling out. Vin had never quite mastered the whole standing up for sex thing, too prone to losing his knees when he got wound up to even try it more than a few times, but damned if he wanted to wind up in that mud Chris was kneeling in.

Chris shifted the hand on Vin’s cock to hold his hip instead and then licked along Vin’s cock like a kid with a stick of candy, root to tip. Vin’s cock pulsed again just before Chris’ tongue reached the slit, and then Chris’ cheeks were hollowing as he took a few inches of Vin’s cock into his mouth and began to suck again with a low rumbling groan.

Vin shuddered like a leaf in a high wind, muscles jumping as his hips reflexively tried to thrust despite his intent to keep still, and another throb of his cock had a wave of tingling heat washing through him and coiling tight low in his belly. “Chris,” he gasped out softly, wanting to warn him that he was close, but he couldn’t gather enough wits or breath for another word before it was too late, his body jerking and tensing up as every muscle went rigid.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Chris choked a little when Vin’s cock throbbed and his throat filled suddenly with thick salty fluid a lot more bitter than it had been, and he had instinctively pulled away before he stopped himself with the crown of Vin’s cock barely in his mouth. Another spurt filled his mouth while he was still trying to swallow the first, and he began concentrating on just swallowing all he could, holding Vin’s hips steady as he looked upwards. He was pretty sure his attempt at cocksucking hadn’t been very good at all, but a glance upwards said he must have done better than he thought. Vin’s eyes were barely open as Vin gasped and shuddered, their color shifted to a deeper blue than Chris had ever seen them as Vin stared down at him.

Chris’ lips curved against Vin’s cock and he moved one hand to stroke the shaft slowly as he sucked gently on the crown, swallowing just a few more times as the pulses of fluid slowed and then stopped. Chris stilled his hand then but he didn’t stop licking at Vin’s cock, cleaning up a few stray droplets of seed that had escaped his mouth. The sweetness definitely wasn’t there anymore, but Chris figured it still wasn’t all that bad. He’d tasted worse, for sure, and it was worth it to put that look in Vin’s eyes. Sometimes his cooking _did_ leave a lot to be desired, after all, and Vin’s coffee could blister paint if Chris forgot to dilute it with water before he tried to drink it.

Vin just watched Chris for a while, gasping like he had run a mile flat-out, and then he suddenly reached for Chris’ chin, tugging Chris away from his cock. Vin dropped to crouch in front of him, just staring into his eyes for a moment before he kissed Chris like he wanted to devour him.

Chris groaned as he returned the kiss with just as much hunger and need, settling back onto his haunches and pulling Vin closer. Vin’s arms slid around his neck and then Vin was in his lap, warm and willing and feeling like pure sin as his thighs wrapped around Chris’ hips. Vin trapped Chris’ cock between them and began to move against him, never breaking the kiss as he set a steady, insistent rhythm. Chris’ hips jerked and the hand that wasn’t tangled in Vin’s hair slid down to palm the small of Vin’s back again, holding him just a bit closer as Chris began to thrust.

Their bodies were slick with rain and sweat, and Chris’ cock was so firmly pressed between them that he knew it wouldn’t be long before he was coming too. He was already so close that he felt like every nerve in his body was thrumming, and then Vin made a low noise in his throat that was almost a whine as he pressed even closer, legs tightening around him. Chris thrust once more and then threw back his head with a low groan, hips jerking with each pulse of his cock as he came.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

 

Vin kept moving slowly as the warm wetness spread between them, fingers tangled in Chris’ hair as he watched Chris trying to catch his breath. He saw a trickle of water sliding down Chris’ throat and ducked to lick at it, purring at the unexpected taste of sweat instead of rain. The fingers of one hand stayed tangled in Chris’ wet hair to keep him still as his other hand began to roam slowly, stroking over Chris’ shoulders and back while Vin nuzzled below Chris’ jaw, tongue finding the trail of sweat again and tracing it up towards Chris’ ear.

Vin inhaled Chris’ familiar scent as he enjoyed the chance to taste Chris’ skin, exploring his throat and shoulder while giving Chris a few minutes to recover. He had wanted this for a long time, almost since he met Chris, but he hadn’t ever really thought it would happen. He kept expecting to wake up any moment and find it was just another dream brought on by too much whiskey and too long sleeping alone. He’d be in for some hellacious ribbing if Buck knew he still had sex dreams like some horny teenaged boy, but he’d been lucky enough to be spared that so far. They didn’t plague him when he was sober, and he made it a point not to sleep near anyone else when he’d been drinking more than a shot or a couple of beers.

Chris nuzzled at Vin’s ear after a few minutes, nipping the earlobe gently before he murmured in a low husky rumble, “If we weren’t muddy before, we sure as hell are now.”

Vin grinned and pulled back just enough to look at Chris. “Worth it, though.”

“Oh hell yeah,” Chris said with a smile, dark grey-green eyes full of satisfaction and warmth. “Might make the last ten miles home pretty uncomfortable, though. This mud looks like adobe, could be tough to get rid of.”

“Creek about a mile that way,” Vin said, nodding towards the trees in the distance. “It’s not deep, but it’ll be runnin’ bank full about now. Throw enough water at it, even adobe comes right off.”

“Creek at home,” Chris countered, lips curving into that wicked little smirk again. “A dry bed, too.” He ran his hands down Vin’s back to stroke over his ass slowly, his touch lingering and more than a little bit possessive. “I got plans for you later.”

Vin barely realized he was moving as he arched his back to press into Chris’ hands, agreeing with a smile, “Better to save it for when I won’t have to ride again right after. Been a long time.”

Chris smirked wider, hands roaming slowly over muscular curves that were surely firmer than he was used to but still fit in his hands just right. “The boys won’t be worryin’ about us for at least another day, and they’ll check my place first since we headed out this way.”

Vin licked his lips, blue eyes darkening again as he enjoyed the way Chris’ hand slid lower so fingertips could explore along the sensitive skin behind his balls. The prospect of spending a day or two in Chris' bed seemed like a little piece of heaven to him, especially if Chris would keep touching him like he was. “We did leave a few potatoes an’ some carrots when we packed up. They’d prob’ly stretch a couple days in a stew with the jerky I got left, or I can get a rabbit or two easy enough. Lots of ‘em in that thicket back behind the barn.”

“Mmm, sounds like a plan,” Chris purred, leaning in to kiss Vin lingeringly before he made a low noise and pulled back just enough to look into Vin’s eyes again, suddenly serious. “I like the idea of a few days in bed with you a hell of a lot more than I probably should.”

“Same here,” Vin admitted as he felt Chris’ hands slide upwards, holding him instead of teasing anymore. He would have expected it not to take Chris long to get serious again if he’d stopped to really think about what they were doing. Their lives weren’t so simple that he and Chris could be together and not have to worry about anyone else’s opinion of it.

“There might be trouble when the others find out about this,” Chris said softly, brow furrowing a bit, and Vin almost smiled at the strong hint Chris wouldn’t be able to hide how he felt anymore. Chris was a master at hiding his thoughts and feelings unless he felt especially strong about something, and then he was about as transparent as a pane of glass. Of course, _usually_ when Chris was doing his window impression, it was because he was so mad he was about a minute from killing someone, or trying to. It would be kind of interesting to see the other side of the coin, just as long as they weren’t in public.

“Ezra won’t give a damn I don’t think,” Chris went on after a moment, “and Josiah and JD’ll learn to cope, but Nathan don’t strike me as the kind to like it, an’ I know Buck’s got no use at all for this kind of thing.”

Chris looked away pensively in the direction of the treeline that stood between them and the trail home, and Vin patiently waited for him to think it through. They spent too much time with five smart, observant men for any change in their relationship to go unnoticed for long, and Vin knew it as well as Chris did. Chris was the kind of man that had to fret over every little thing that might hurt people he cared about, and he definitely cared about the men they rode with. The other five were the closest thing to family either of them had besides each other, and Vin knew there wasn’t much that was more important to Chris than family.

“Been friends with him a hell of a long time,” Chris said finally, “but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna lie to him, or even hide this from him.” He met Vin’s gaze again then, and his arms tightened around Vin. “I ain’t givin’ you up either though, not now that I got you.”

“Glad to hear that.” Vin shifted to lift one hand to Chris’ wet hair, running his fingers through it slowly and smiling as he added gently, “Buck would walk through fire for you without hesitatin’, Chris. He ain’t gonna turn his back on you, no matter what you do with me. I ‘spect he and JD and even Nathan can ignore you sleepin’ with a breed if we don’t rub their noses in it, an' I know Josiah won’t be upset long as nobody’s gettin’ hurt. He’s seen all kinds of things, traipsin’ all over the world, an' he don’t look on gettin’ laid like most white folks.” He snorted softly, still smiling. “And I ain’t sure nobody else’d even notice I’m gone on you unless I put an ad in the paper, ‘cept Ezra, an' he don’t run his mouth about it.”

Chris leaned slightly into the fingers stroking through his hair even though he frowned. “You’re a hell of a lot more than just a breed to me, Vin.”

Vin grinned, amused that Chris latched onto that one word out of everything else he had just said. “I know that, but it don’t make it less true that’s how most ever’ one else sees me. I look white, but I’ve never been too good at passin’, all the same. Spent too much time as a young buck huntin’ buffalo with the Comanche.”

“You’re not half,” Chris protested. “It don’t hardly count if it’s less ’n that. Everybody’s got a little red in them somewhere, I bet. I got some Iroquois on my pa’s side back a ways, and nobody calls me breed.”

Vin laughed. “An Iroquois two or three generations back is a mite different from being grandson of a Kiowa chief that got shot fightin’ the pony soldiers just a few years ago, Chris, an' you know it. My ma didn’t look like a halfbreed so the soldier boys took her from the tribe when she was just a kid, but she never did fit in. She wasn’t as old as Casey when she wound up with a mountain man named Tanner, livin’ Comanche down in Texas. He got killed in a raid when I was five or so an' she took me and headed for the nearest town ‘cause she wanted me to fit in with whites better than she or Pa did. She died a couple months later an’ I got passed around by the ladies in town, tryin’ to civilize me.” He snorted softly, amused. “I was still fightin’ ‘em tooth and nail when I heard rumor some Comanche were in the area and I lit out on foot to join ’em. They took me in for a while, but it wasn’t long before the soldiers were harassin’ them for havin’ a ‘stolen’ white boy. They gave me a pony an’ the chief’s son took me to a tribe farther out in the desert that would take in a stray like me. I went Navajo for a while then, but it didn’t last either. I drifted back to Texas to try my luck with the Kiowa, but I had to keep runnin’ again whenever some settler tried to take me back. I managed to get by better ’n some I guess, but I still grew up knowin’ I was a breed and not really welcome most places.”

Chris just stared at him, surprised Vin had said so much about his past, Vin was sure. He seldom spoke about it sober, even if someone asked him. Chris was the only one he really felt had a right to know except Ezra, and Ezra wouldn’t lead him into a conversation where he had to share. Ezra knew all about having a past you just wanted to forget and he was always careful not to pry. Chris hadn’t ever asked either, willing to let it be if Vin wanted him to, but Vin had always known Chris would like to know more. On the rare occasion he did mention his past, Chris always stopped whatever he was doing to listen.

After a few minutes, Chris finally said softly, “Vin, I ain’t listenin’ to nobody call you breed, not even you.”

Vin pulled away to get up, amused. “I’ll try to remember that, but I ain’t makin’ you no promises. Bein’ a breed’s as much about who I am as what I am, always has been. I was born lookin’ too white to go all the way red without riskin’ whatever tribe took me in, but I’m too red down deep to pass as white all the time either.”

Chris snorted and helped Vin stand, then accepted a hand up from Vin and got to his feet as he grumbled, “You better remember. I don’t wanna have to whip you.”

Vin just looked at him, trying not to laugh. Chris had a longer reach and outweighed him, sure, but he had the flexibility and endurance to outlast anything Chris could throw at him and Chris knew it as well as he did. Chris’ only chance if they ever seriously tangled was to either knock him out or pin him down, and Vin was pretty sure Chris wouldn’t knock him out. Not if they were just arguing over something he had _said_. Getting pinned down might be fun though, given what had gone on between them in the last fifteen minutes. Wrestling was always more fun when clothes would be coming off afterwards.

Chris smirked slightly and Vin was sure Chris knew just what he was thinking as Chris added, “I got better plans for your ass than kickin’ it.”

Vin did laugh then and gave Chris a shove towards Pony. “Go get dressed, cowboy. We got miles yet to a bed, an’ I ain’t puttin’ out until we’re someplace comfortable and dry.”

Chris snickered and let Vin push him away. “How many times have I got to say it? I ain’t no cowboy.” He started walking around Pony to go retrieve his pants and boots, patting the black gelding’s shoulder on his way by.

“You stop wearin’ them fancy jinglebob spurs and I might believe that.” Vin noticed that Chris had gummy red mud clinging to him from the knee down just about the same time as Chris directed a look at his legs that made Vin snicker. “You don’t have to look so disgusted. There’ll be a tank or three in the rock you left your boots on. Probably won’t be much, but any water’s better than none.”

Chris grinned as he glanced over his shoulder at Vin. “If not I’ll use our canteens. I’ll be damned if I’m putting muddy feet in my favorite boots, not to mention the mess they’d make of my pants.”

“You could’ve stayed put on the rock,” Vin teased. “No mud to speak of there.”

Chris snorted and stopped, turning to look at Vin. “Maybe, but you wouldn’t have come after me. If you were plannin’ to do that you’d have been sharing my bath a long time ago.”

Vin laughed and blushed slightly, wondering just how transparent his attempts at covertly watching Chris in the bathhouse had really been. “Gettin’ up close and personal in the middle of town is a hell of a lot different from out here miles from nowhere. I ain’t so sure I could’ve resisted today. Not after you caught me lookin'.”

Chris looked smug. “Good.” He turned away and scanned the rock before he headed towards a likely looking puddle a little ways off, leaving his boots and pants where they were for the moment.

Vin watched Chris until he bent to rinse his legs, and then he forced himself turn away to pick up his pants. He made a face at the condition they were in, holding them well away from him to keep from getting any muddier than he had to while he tried to decide if the pants were a lost cause. He sure wasn’t putting them on like they were, not when he had a spare pair stuffed in his saddlebags. They’d been worn for days already and would be damp from the rain because the saddlebags weren’t quite waterproof anymore, but they still weren’t nearly so filthy as the pants Chris had dropped in the mud.

Decision made, it only took Vin a moment to get the suspenders loose to switch them to the cleaner pair. He rolled up the muddy britches and wrapped them in the shirt he’d worn earlier to put them in his saddlebag without muddying the leather. He’d wash them later and see if he could get them at least passably clean. He had a feeling the red mud would stain the canvas near as bad as blood, but they weren’t worn enough to replace them outright over a few stains.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Chris stepped right into the shallow tank and bent to scoop water up onto his muddy legs, glad the rain hadn’t all run off even though there was only a gallon or two in the low spot where the water was gathering.

The gummy red mud turned out not to be anything more than pulverized sandstone, and it didn’t take too much to get it off once he wet his legs down a little. He was surprised how easy it actually was to get clean, or something approaching clean, and he was just turning away to go get some clothes on when the sky cut loose again. He looked up and grinned when he saw the darkest clouds were finally skittering off to the east, which meant they would soon be out of the rain if they kept the horses to a pace slower than the storm moved. He looked back down to take advantage of the rain, making sure to rinse away the mud he had on one thigh and then rubbing at the sticky smear on his belly.

“Keep that up an’ we’ll never get to that bed,” Vin teased, walking towards Chris with an armload of clothes, boots, and his gunbelt. He was wearing nothing but his hat, and had somehow managed to stay reasonably clean except for his muddy feet and a streak of mud on one calf.

“Can’t keep your hands off me?” Chris asked, smirking as he let his hand fall away from his belly.

Vin grinned and continued past him towards another shallow puddle of water. “Ain’t many ways you look better than you do naked an’ wet.”

Chris laughed, blinking rain away from his eyes. “I could say the same about you.”

“Go ‘head, I don’t mind. It’s been said before,” Vin replied, looking over his shoulder at Chris with a teasing grin, his face sheltered from the rain by his hat. “Get an eyeful while you can, though. I don’t make a habit of wanderin’ ‘round naked like you do.”

Chris let his gaze roam, smirking as he said feelingly, “You should.”

Vin just laughed and bent to put his clothes and gun down, flipping a fold of his coat over the gun to shed water from it. He moved into the puddle and then bent over again to rinse off his muddy feet and leg.

Once he was paying attention, Chris realized that compared to most of the men he had seen naked over the years – and that wasn’t something easy to avoid, using public bathhouses – Vin had very little body hair at all. It only took him a moment to realize it was probably because of Vin’s Kiowa grandfather. Chris had never seen an Indian with a hairy chest, or a beard either for that matter, though Vin did shave when he started looking scruffy. JD’s slow-growing whiskers had been the object of much teasing from Buck at one point until Vin had told Buck to lay off the kid and pointed out he had most of ten years on JD but still shaved just once a week.

Chris enjoyed the view for a little longer despite the rain pouring down, his gaze finally settling to admire the curve of Vin’s ass. He had never made a habit of looking at any man’s hind end, but he couldn’t help but think that Vin’s was worth making an exception. One thing was for certain: if he hadn’t caught glimpses in the bathhouse before, he never would have suspected Vin’s clothes hid anything to compare with what they did. Vin’s ass was easily as pretty as a woman’s as far as Chris was concerned, and was so pale compared to Vin’s lower back that he had to wonder when the last time was that it actually saw the sun for more than a few minutes.

“Took me at my word, huh?” Vin said suddenly, and when Chris jerked his gaze up to Vin’s face he had to grin at the pleased expression he saw there. “Nice knowin’ you like what you see that much. If anybody’s got the right to look, I figure it’s you.”

Chris realized he was getting hard again and let out a bit of a laugh, looking down as he ran one hand through his hair and shook away some of the water clinging to it. Rain began to drip off his nose and he brushed it away, then looked back over at Vin, grinning. “Put some clothes on before I forget there’s a bed waitin’ us at home.”

Vin snickered and moved to his clothes as the rain began to let off again, picking up a pair of wet socks that were at least mud-free. “Don’t worry, I’m not lettin’ you forget that. I’ve been promised a night in your bed an’ I’m not gonna miss out on it now.”

“I was hopin’ for a hell of a lot more than one night of you in my bed,” Chris said with a sudden frown, watching Vin pull his socks on.

Vin finished with the socks and then picked up his pants as he looked at Chris again, looking serious for a moment before he gave Chris a slow smile. “Don’t look so worried, cowboy. Ain’t nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Chris smiled, relieved. That was exactly what he wanted to hear.

 

~*~*~*~

 

“I could get used to that,” Chris said, looking pleased. “Ain’t much for bein’ alone.”

Vin chuckled, stepping into his pants. It was nice to hear Chris saying such things, but that didn’t make them true. He looked back up at Chris as he began to button the fly of his britches, grinning. “You’re lyin’ through your teeth, but least it’s a lie I don’t mind hearin’. You like being alone even more than I do, and that’s goin’ some.”

Chris grinned. “I ever kicked you out?”

Vin laughed and opened his mouth to point out the last time, then closed it again and blinked when he couldn’t remember Chris ever outright telling him to make himself scarce. Chris had said it to the room at large more than once when Vin was there, but he’d never done it in such a way to make Vin feel like it was directed at him. There had been times Chris had agreed with Vin’s decision to leave instead of continuing one of their rare fights, and plenty of times one or the other had been pissed over something and just walked away before a fight could start between them. Vin remembered several times that he’d followed Chris despite knowing Chris wanted to be alone, and realized suddenly that he had never really gotten his head bit off when Chris caught him at it. He’d gotten a glare quite a few times when Chris became aware of Vin following him, but Chris could be free with his glares sometimes and Vin never took them personally.

After a few minutes Vin finally said slowly, “Well now, I can’t say as you have told me to clear out. Not when it was just you an’ me, anyhow. There’s been times I was there when you told somebody else you wanted to be alone.”

Chris snorted and nodded, turning away. “Damn right. I’ll run Buck off when he can’t stop runnin’ his mouth, and the rest of ‘em can get on a body’s nerves almost as bad.” He glanced over his shoulder, unerringly catching Vin’s eye and smiling slightly. “But I like havin’ you with me.”

Vin smiled back and watched as Chris looked away and continued on. After a moment he bent to pick up his gun belt, strapping on the sawed-off Winchester and buckling the tie down before he sat on his coat to pull his boots on, thinking that over.

If he wasn’t just forgetting and Chris really hadn’t ever tried to get him to make himself scarce, that put some things in a bit of a different light, for sure. Chris could be surly as a bull buffalo with sandspurs in delicate places when he was of a mind to. Vin had always thought Chris spared him the rough side of his tongue only because he was smart enough to stay out of the way when Chris was on a tear. He took his hat off, dropping it on his knee as he reached for his shirt and then pulled it over his head before he picked his hat back up. He jammed it back on his head, wondering if there might be another reason as he began to button the bib front of his shirt, which led right into trying to figure out just how long Chris had been interested in him.

“You’re gonna bust something, you keep thinkin’ so hard.”

Vin looked over his shoulder at Chris, not surprised to see he was settling his boots, dressed except for the hat, duster, shirt and gunbelt still draped across Pony’s saddle. Chris always dressed fast, as efficient and precise as a military man heading for a surprise inspection, and it always made Vin smile. Vin had seen the same trait in a few officers he fought with, always first to dress and first into a fight no matter what. “You’re the one gave me somethin’ to think on.”

“Such as?” Chris asked, looking amused as he turned to walk towards Pony.

Vin stood and shrugged into his suspenders, then pulled his wet coat on and started after Chris, tucking his shirt in as he walked. “Wonderin’ when I stopped bein’ just a friend, mostly.”

Chris pulled his shirt on and then turned towards Vin as he buttoned it. “You were never just a friend. That first day when I looked into your eyes it scared me shitless. Did it pretty regular for a while after, too.” He grinned suddenly and teased, “Don’t scare me any more, though.”

Vin laughed softly, surprised. “You were scared of me?”

Chris made a see-sawing gesture with one hand, reaching for his gunbelt with the other. “Six of one, half a dozen of the other. More that I was scared of likin’ what I saw a hell of a lot more than I was used to than anything else. You had me twistin’ in the wind more times than I can count, and you never even knew it. Sometimes I felt like followin’ you around like a lost puppy, and the rest I was tryin’ to think of reasons you needed to be followin’ me.”

Vin blinked and then snorted, grinning. “I think you’re puttin’ me on.”

Chris grinned wickedly. “Not yet. You wanted a dry bed for that, remember?”

Vin laughed and headed towards Peso. “Get on your horse, Larabee. I wanna get dry sometime this week.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

Chris snickered as he turned to put his hat on and gather up Pony’s rein out of the mud, grinning over the saddle while Vin mounted up on Peso. He decided not to bother with putting his duster back on as wet as it was, so while he watched Vin he tucked it under the bedroll behind his saddle and tied it down. He finished that in a moment or two but didn’t move until Vin was settled, enjoying the view despite how well Vin’s clothes hid what was under them, and then he swung up into the saddle himself and swept off his hat again, gesturing grandly at the trail. “Lead the way, I’ll be right behind you.”

Vin grinned. “I’d like having you behind me just fine, but Peso’s liable to have a fit. We might both be safer if you stay on Pony.”

Vin nudged Peso with his heels and the black gelding leapt into a gallop from a standing start, twisting and plunging when his rider tried to slow his pace. He wasn’t quite bucking, but he was definitely letting Vin know he wasn’t happy about the long delay in the rain. Vin just laughed and wrestled with Peso, hauling him down after a minute or two to a trot that was a bit more likely to get them all the way home without killing the sorrel.

Chris snickered at Peso’s antics and clucked softly Pony, urging him forward, and it wasn’t long before they pulled even with Peso. Chris grinned at Vin, giving him a wink that earned him another soft laugh. Peso was a little taller than Pony, but the difference in height between Chris and Vin put them eye to eye anyway.

The three horses they would have to take out to the Calhoun farm lagged back on the end of their lead ropes for a few minutes, but it wasn’t long before they settled into a ground-eating trot to match Pony and Peso. Being dragged wasn’t any fun, especially on muddy ground where hooves slid easy.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5

 

Vin closed the corral, tying a length of rope around the gate and post firmly. He had already learned the hard way that the mares were smarter than he had expected them to be. The mare that had been stolen from the Calhoun farm might spend most of her time in harness, and the paint mare didn’t look much smarter than average, but looks were definitely deceiving.

One of the mares had unlatched the gate twice, he just wasn’t sure which one it was. She had done it both times while he was bent over with his back to the corral gate, carefully cleaning out the sorrel gelding’s front hoof. The mare that was the culprit was smart enough to wait until he was fully distracted both times, and when he heard the latch and turned around the mares were together at the gate watching him.

If he had been sure which had done it, he’d have just put that mare the extra stall where she couldn’t let the others loose to wander off, but as it was he had decided to tie the gate. They hadn’t gotten the boards to finish the rest of the stalls yet, so Vin couldn’t stall both mares without putting one of them in either Pony or Peso’s stall.

Pony would definitely go in if it rained so Vin didn’t want to fill his stall, and putting another horse in Peso’s stall would cause a fight if the gelding wandered in out of the rain later. It wasn’t likely, but Vin would rather not wake up in the wee hours of the morning to Peso tearing down the barn, especially when they hadn’t even finished it yet. Peso didn’t much care for mares, and he could be pretty protective of his feed trough. He didn’t like the stall itself much, but Peso knew exactly where his morning grain was supposed to go and any horse that got between him and it was liable to get clobbered.

Vin leaned against the gate once he was satisfied no horse would be getting it open, looking off down the meadow. Peso and Pony had finished their feed and were halfway to the far treeline as they grazed, both looking dark bay in the late-afternoon sunshine that brought out the rusty tinge wind and sun damage left to the winter coats they would shed before long. He had left the barn and stalls open when he fed them, even though he knew only Pony would be likely to go back in once the grain was gone. Peso didn’t much like rain, but he’d tolerate it instead of going in a barn unless Vin put feed in his stall and locked him in. The black mustang was born wild and never even saw a barn until he was around five years old, and he hadn’t ever really liked them unless he was feeding his face or it was snowing heavily.

Pony was just the opposite of Peso. He never complained when he was far from a barn if he was left in the rain, but when he was within sight of one it was a different story. Pony knew what a barn was and expected to be pampered when he was near one, most likely because Chris spoiled him shamelessly whenever no one was around to catch him at it. The stocky black gelding would not be pleased if it rained and he was shut out of his stall, especially if it was a cold rain like they still got on occasion that early in the year. Pony often climbed on Chris’ porch to rattle the windows if Chris forgot to feed him or the barn was closed and he wanted inside it, and always made a hell of a racket doing it. Chris had replaced four panes of glass so far, and the front wall of the cabin had more than a few scars below Chris’ bedroom window from Pony’s shod hooves pawing at the wood.

“You ever gonna join me?” Chris called from the porch, sounding amused. “Stew’s done.”

Vin turned away from the horses and grinned at Chris, pushing his hat back on his head just a bit as he started towards the house. “Sounds like my timin’ was pretty good then. I just got ’em all settled for the night.”

Chris laughed. “I see where I rank ‘round here.”

Vin climbed the steps, walking over to Chris to grin at him from right up close and personal, but he didn’t reach out and touch just yet. “You got it all wrong, as usual. I was gettin’ the chores done so I could spend the rest of the night with you, not avoidin’ you to spend time with them.” He grinned and did a little teasing of his own, adding, “I can spend the night with the horses if that’s what you want, though. Loft gets a mite lonely sometimes, but my bed’s comfortable enough and the view’s awful nice.”

Chris snorted, grinning. “Over my dead body.” He caught Vin’s face between his palms and kissed him slow and deep, lingering for several minutes that felt like half an hour to Vin, then smirked and stepped back as he nodded at the door. “Inside. There’s a bowl of rabbit stew with your name on it, and an empty spot in my bed just waitin’ for that pretty little hind end of yours to settle in.”

Vin laughed, blushing slightly at the unexpected compliment as he turned to go into the cabin. “Anybody ever told you you’re bossy as all hell, Larabee?”

“Yep! You do it all the time,” Chris said cheerfully, following Vin inside and closing the door behind them.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Buck steadied his grey and stared at the closing door to Chris’ cabin, trying to convince himself he hadn’t just seen what he thought he did. If he did, his best friend was galloping into territory that Buck would have sworn on his sainted mother’s grave that Chris would never stray into.

Buck knew better than anyone that Chris and Vin had been close since they met, and while Buck hadn’t liked the tracker much at first, he had understood eventually that their friendship defied explanation. Vin just plain got Chris from the day they met like no one else ever had, not even poor Sarah, bless her soul. Chris had loved the girl with all he had, almost as much as he had loved their boy Adam, but she never could read his mind like Vin did even that first day without seeming to notice he’d done it. Buck knew that kind of thing could draw a person, even though he'd never had it himself. It had to be pretty damned nice to have someone who just _knew you_ inside out like that.

Vin knew more about Chris that he had never needed to be told than he did hard facts, it seemed like, and Buck knew there wasn’t much of Chris’ past that he hadn’t told Vin. Vin had the knack for saying or doing just the right thing to let Chris open up and let out some of the things he’d kept bottled up for so long, and Vin always seemed to know just what to say to help Chris settle his demons afterwards. More than once, Buck had been pretty damned grateful to have Vin around to pull Chris back from that abyss that so nearly ate the man whole after he lost his family. Pulling Chris out of one of his black moods was like carrying water in a net for Buck, but Vin had the knack for saying just exactly the right thing to get through to Chris, even if it meant letting Chris take that pain out on him.

It wasn’t all Vin though, not by a long sight. Chris could look at Vin, not even see his face, and know what the scrawny tracker was planning to do next. Let Chris get a glimpse of Vin’s face and he’d know exactly what Vin was thinking most times, even if they hadn’t spoken to each other in days. Buck didn’t have a hope in hell of figuring out what Vin was thinking unless Vin particularly wanted him to, and Nathan was fond of saying Vin’s idea of logic was a law unto itself, but Chris never had to ask. He’d just catch Vin’s eye and they’d look at each other a few seconds, and most times Buck would end up with the feeling that they’d said a hell of a lot despite never opening their mouths.

Buck couldn’t even begin to understand how they communicated so well without saying a word, but they damned sure did it every time he turned around. He couldn’t count how many scrapes they’d been in where he’d seen Chris and Vin exchange one of those speaking looks and then all hell would break loose with the two of them working together like they’d spent a week planning it out. Before long Chris and Vin would be grinning and the trouble would be over and done with, and Buck would be scratching his head and feeling dumb.

Buck had always blamed the frequent glances Chris and Vin cast at each other on that odd connection of theirs, just checking in maybe, but now he had to wonder if it hadn’t been something else all along. They had spent a lot of time watching each other right from the beginning, but they watched _everyone_ so it hadn’t seemed unusual. He hadn’t ever even wondered if they might be screwing around, sure he knew Chris too well for Chris to surprise him with something like that, but he wasn’t sure anymore. If those glances and little smiles they shot back and forth all the time had meant more than Buck had thought they did, he figured they were the kind of men who could’ve hidden it easy as breathing if they wanted it hid.

The more Buck thought about it, the more he realized he probably shouldn’t have been surprised to round a curve in the trail just in time to see his best friend reach for Tanner and then kiss him like that scrawny half-breed tracker was his world. Chris had often kissed Sarah just the same way, cupping her face in his hands as if to drink her in lips first, but in more trips to brothels than Buck could count he had _never_ seen Chris kiss anyone else like that. It told him more than he wanted to know about how important Vin was to Chris, and made it plain to him that they were doing a lot more than just kissing. Chris was a lot of things, but he wasn't the kind of man to deny himself something he wanted.

Buck had run across a few men who weren’t too picky about where they dipped their wick when he was younger. He figured Vin being that way explained the problems he’d had trusting Vin at first, instinct maybe, but he had _never_ figured Chris for going that way. Buck knew a dozen ladies just off the top of his head that’d take care of Chris for free and count themselves lucky that the lanky gunslinger had given them the time of day. Chris could’ve had just about anyone he wanted, and yet here he was hiding out with Tanner while their friends thought they were out risking their necks tracking down those murdering thieves who hurt Miss Lorrie.

Peso finally noticed Buck’s mare on the trail and let out a challenging bugle, sounding more like a stallion than any gelding had a right to. Misty and Peso had never gotten along well, and Peso never liked her coming into what he considered to be his territory. He challenged her every time, but he would tolerate her presence if she kept her distance from Pony, who Peso protected jealously from Misty even though she and Pony got along fine if Peso wasn't around. Peso didn't like any mare getting near him or Pony, and he had tangled more than once with Nathan's mare Foxy, too.

Buck cursed under his breath at the way Misty tossed her head and answered Peso loudly despite his warning shake of the reins, and Pony answered with a loud nicker. If he turned back now, Chris or Vin one was sure to check the trail to see who had drawn Peso’s attention. Pony didn’t often greet horses he didn’t know, but even without that hint as to the identity of the horse Chris and Vin were sure to figure it out. He had no doubt either of them could tell Misty’s tracks from a stranger’s, if they didn’t already recognize the grey’s neigh. They had been down too many trails together for them not to know the sign Buck’s mare left almost as well as they knew Pony and Peso’s tracks.

Buck started his big grey towards the cabin at a slow trot, brain working overtime to try and figure out how he’d hide his reaction to what he’d seen, or if he should try at all. Vin was likely the most observant man Buck had ever met, but he didn’t have Chris beat by much. Buck didn’t think he could put up a good enough front that Chris wouldn’t see right through him, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was going through Chris’ head, either.

There were some things Buck figured just weren’t necessary to do, and the things one man could do in bed with another were right up there high on the list. Buck hadn’t ever had any respect for a man who’d turn to another man for sex instead of finding a willing lady friend. He had always been sure it was a sign they had something twisted and bad in them deep down, just like his ma had told him when he was a boy, but he was having trouble putting Chris into that category. Buck just couldn’t convince himself that Chris could be that kind of wrong he’d always despised, even after he saw Chris kiss another man.

Knowing Chris was likely screwing Tanner, who Buck liked and respected well enough even if they weren’t exactly close, couldn’t wipe out a lot of long years of riding and fighting side by side with Chris, or even the last few years of fighting next to Tanner. He knew Chris as well as he knew anyone, and knew right down to his bones that Chris was a good man and a better friend despite the old pain that had burned away the best half of him. Sure they had fought, and they had gone their separate ways during those dark days when Chris was just praying for a bullet to end it all, but Chris was still the closest thing Buck had to a brother. Buck might not have grown up like most folks, but he had learned young that there wasn’t much you couldn’t forgive for family.

Chris stepped out on the cabin’s porch in his shirtsleeves, his hat and gunbelt nowhere to be seen and his rifle in one hand, tipped back over his shoulder. Tanner was right behind him with that sawed-off Winchester of his, also hatless and looking odd to Buck’s eyes even in his usual tan canvas pants and a familiar faded bib-front shirt that was red once upon a time. He hardly ever saw Vin without a gunbelt and that leather coat of his, but Vin had left off both of them and his hat in the few minutes he’d been in the cabin.

Buck found himself noticing how curly and shiny Vin’s long hair was, which always meant he had bathed very recently since the curl would subside after a day so. Sarah had hair very like that, reddish brown and wavy-curly with highlights that made it shimmer red-gold in the sunlight sometimes. Now that Buck was thinking about it, she had also had blue eyes, and was almost the same height, too, though she had outweighed Vin by a goodly bit. Vin was scrawny as hell, and Sarah had been a curvy woman. Realizing how similar she had been to Vin, at least physically, seemed to make what Buck had just seen a little bit more inevitable. Chris had always liked blonde women for screwing around, but the kind of lady who landed in his bed more than once always seemed to fit into Sarah’s mold: wavy/curly auburn hair, blue eyes, and tall for a woman. If Chris had a type, Vin fit into it pretty well except for the fact he had a dick, and judging by the way Chris had kissed him, Chris didn’t much mind that anymore.

Buck realized that he was putting off thinking about how to speak to Chris and mentally kicked himself, trying to get his mind focused. He reined up at the porch and pasted on a grin, sparing Vin a nod hello before he turned his attention on Chris. “Well look who the cat dragged in. I’ve been checkin’ the place every day to be sure nobody’s been nosin’ around, but I expect you two got that under control now.” He shifted in the saddle, pushing his hat back a bit farther as he looked over at the corral. “Miss Lorrie sure will be glad to see that mare of hers. She’s been worried sick how they’d get back and forth to town without her, much less finish putting in a crop.”

“Howdy Buck,” Chris said with a slight twist to his lips, and Buck knew he was amused even though most folks would never have guessed it. “Trip went just fine, but it’s a long ride yet to the Calhoun place and the horses are just about done in. You hungry? I just made some rabbit stew. It ain’t as good as you’ll get in town, but beats riding back in the dark on an empty belly.”

Buck shook his head, his grin getting a bit more sincere as he remembered his plans for the night. “Got dinner and a lady waitin’ on me back in town. Besides, I’ve had your cookin’. A long dusty ride’ll likely taste a lot better.”

Vin snickered. “He’s got you there, Chris. You’ve made some god-awful grub a time or two.”

Chris turned and took a swing at Vin, laughing, and Buck’s eyebrows went right up almost to his hairline as he watched Vin grin and dodge the blow, then leap back when Chris made as if to grab him.

“Mock my cookin’ _again_ , will you,” Chris threatened, almost laughing as he leaned his rifle against the cabin wall and started after Vin. “Just let me get my hands on you and you’re gonna learn the error of your ways, Tanner.”

Vin laughed and backed up quickly, putting his pocket cannon in the chair a few feet from the other side of the door. He leapt away again when Chris lunged at him, grabbing one of the porch supports and swinging out around it to dodge back the other way past Chris. “Bring it on, cowboy. Anythin’ you can dish out, I can take.” He grinned at Chris as he stopped at the far end of the porch, standing in a half crouch and obviously ready to run. “If you can catch me, that is.”

Chris laughed and started after Vin again, grinning wickedly. “Oh, I’ll catch you, alright.”

Buck swept off his hat and scratched at his hair, just watching them and puzzling over what he was seeing. Vin was prone to a prank or two when he got the devil in him and would wrestle and play like a boy in the right mood, but Chris was a completely different story. Buck could count on one hand the number of times in the last five years he’d seen Chris feeling playful, but he hadn’t seen him actually give in to the impulse more than once or twice since Adam and Sarah were killed. There’d been a time Buck had been sure he’d never see Chris play again at all, and to see Chris and Tanner laughing and dodging around the porch made him wonder if he hadn’t fallen off Misty somewhere along the trail and hit _his_ head. He could easier believe he was hallucinating than he could believe that Chris was _sober_ and playing tag with Tanner like they were a couple of kids.

Chris finally snagged Vin by the back of his britches at the far end of the porch and Vin made an undignified noise somewhere between a yelp and a squawk as Chris jerked him backwards and then spun him so Vin’s back was against the wall. They were a good fifteen feet from Buck and the sun was going behind the trees, but he could still see them just fine and what he saw made him certain that whatever was going on between Chris and Vin, it wasn’t new _or_ platonic. There was a gleam in Chris’ eyes that Buck had seen before.

“Got you now, pard,” Chris said with a wicked grin, just barely loud enough Buck could hear him. “You gonna keep up the big talk or back some water?”

Vin snickered, not even trying to get away as his hands settled on Chris’ forearms. “Seems to me I can’t back up nowhere.” There was a definite challenge in his eyes, but it looked a bit off to Buck for some reason he couldn’t quite pin down until he realized that was hunger he was seeing. He’d seen Vin with a lady more than once, but he’d never seen him look at anyone like that before. Vin was giving Chris a look very like the one that he usually reserved for a particularly nice steak after a long day in the saddle. “Your cookery still leaves a lot to be desired as often as not.”

Chris laughed and leaned slowly towards Vin, and Buck suddenly realized they had gotten so caught up in their horsing around that they had forgotten he was there. He sure didn’t want to have to watch a repeat of the kiss he saw earlier – once was more than plenty for him – or worse, so he spoke up quickly. “You boys gonna start actin’ your age anytime soon, or should I go hunt down a babysitter to send out this way?”

Chris jerked at the sound of Buck’s voice and then let Vin go and stepped away, turning to give Buck a smile that didn’t even come close to his eyes. “Can’t make no promises on the actin’ my age part, but I don’t need a babysitter, Buck. Haven’t in a hell of a long time.”

“Well, you sure couldn’t prove it by me,” Buck said slowly, looking from Chris to Vin and back again. Vin looked away and pretended to scratch his nose, but not before Buck saw how red he was blushing. “If you want me to butt out and just carry my ass on back to town without sayin’ any more, I will, but I get the feeling there’s something going on here I don’t know about. I ain’t real sure I want to, come to that, but I feel like I probably should.”

“You know I’m not gonna lie to you. We’ve been down too many trails together to start that kind of thing now.” Chris glanced at Vin, who was still a bit red-faced but nodded slightly as he met Chris’ gaze, then Chris turned back to meet Buck’s gaze again. “You’ve never been slow to figure out this kind of thing.”

Buck shifted in the saddle, resettling his feet in the stirrups, then was still again. “What’re you trying to say?”

“I don’t think I have to spell it out for you, Buck,” Chris said quietly, looking much more serious and vaguely unhappy. “You rode up here acting like maybe you saw somethin’ already, and then I forgot myself enough to make it pretty plain. I got a feelin’ you’re just hoping I’ll tell you you’re wrong.” He paused as if searching for the right words, then shrugged and said simply, “I still won’t lie to you, even if you want me to.”

Buck looked at Chris for a long moment and then heaved a sigh. “Just, _damn_ , Chris.” His gaze roamed to Vin for a moment, taking in Vin’s closed expression that could hide just about anything, and then he looked back at Chris. “I could see the porch when Tanner joined you before, I just didn’t quite believe what I saw. Not from you.”

“Believe it,” Chris replied, expression and tone both making it obvious to Buck that he wouldn’t be changing his mind. “And don’t give me any crap about it, either. You’re like a brother to me and the best friend a man ever had, but some roads a man’s just gotta choose for himself. I never expected this one to call to me, but I’m not turnin’ my back on it, Bucklin. Not even for you.”

Buck stared at Chris for a few minutes in silence and then said abruptly, “Mighty rocky trail you’re gallopin’ down, partner. Lot of ways you can screw it up and get hurt.”

“It’s still my trail to take,” Chris said. “I know you don’t like it and I’m sorry for that, I really am, but I got to think about myself, too.” He paused and then added more quietly, “I’ve tried ignoring what I feel and it just wasn’t workin’. I’ve done all the runnin’ from myself I’m gonna do.”

Vin moved to stand at Chris’ shoulder, just behind him and to one side like Vin had stood a thousand times before, and Buck suddenly remembered the first time he saw Vin, years ago, struck by the fact Vin had looked at Chris just the same way that day. There wasn’t a hair’s difference now that the hunger Buck had seen a few minutes ago was hidden again, and he wondered again just what that first meeting between Chris and Vin had been like. Buck had been _sure_ that first day that Chris had to have known Vin for quite some time for him to trust the way Vin liked to stand so close to Chris all the time, and the way Chris often leaned towards Vin as if he wanted to stay close to him too had seemed to back up that idea. Buck hadn’t known for most of a week that Chris and Vin had only met the morning of that same day he met Vin, and even then he hadn’t been sure he believed it.

Vin kept his voice quiet and calm as he spoke up, jarring Buck out of his memories. “You don’t have to worry about him because of this, Buck. He’s still got somebody you can trust to watch his back when you ain’t there. Just because you know somethin’ about me you didn’t before don’t mean I’ve changed, or that Chris has ‘cause he didn’t beat me to death for how I feel about him. We’re still the same men we were when we rode out last week.” He smiled crookedly. “Just happier, is all.”

Buck met Vin’s gaze, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly before he spoke. He knew if he said the wrong thing that it could ruin his friendship with Chris, and with Vin too, though it would hurt him more to lose Chris. “You’re a good man, Vin. I know that. Always have, no matter what you might think my opinion of you was—” Chris’ eyebrows went up at that little white lie but Buck bulled on before he could lose his train of thought. “—but Chris is the closest thing I got to a family. You get him hurt and I will end you. I don’t care if it takes me the rest of my life to hunt you down.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Vin replied calmly, giving Buck a smile. “Wouldn’t take me near so long to track you down though.” He paused slightly and then added, “We’re not so different, Buck, you an’ me. We both grew up livin’ places decent folks think a kid has no right to be, an’ we both know what family’s worth as much ‘cause we lost ours as anythin’ else. I’ve got a lot more folks I’d die for these days, but Chris still comes first for me. Has since I met him, and will ‘til the day I die.”

Buck blinked and then one corner of his mustache twitched upwards in reluctant amusement. He knew Vin meant every word. If there was any one person Vin had never made a secret of his loyalty to, it was Chris. He’d seen it in the way Vin quietly backed Chris up when they met, and knew it had only grown stronger over the years. “Just so we understand each other.”

“Always have, Buck. I know where I stand with you.” Vin nodded towards Chris. “Right behind him, no matter what trails he wants to take.” He smiled again, a bit wider this time. “I hope that means I’ll stand with you, and with the others too, but like Chris said, I can’t pick another man’s road for him. All I can do is take my own trail as best I can an’ try not to hurt the folks I care about along the way.”

Buck nodded, feeling more than a little respect for Vin’s unflinching honesty. “I hear you, Vin.” He finally turned his gaze back to Chris then, surprised he was being so quiet until he saw the way Chris was watching Vin. He looked like he couldn’t decide whether to kiss Vin or kick his ass, and Buck had to laugh. He’d seen Chris look at Sarah just the same way a thousand times when she had some idea stuck in her head that Chris just couldn’t wrap his mind around.

Chris looked at Buck sharply, eyebrows drawing down into a scowl when he realized Buck was laughing at him. “What’s so damned funny?”

Buck grinned. “Don’t you be actin’ like an ol’ bear with a sore tooth now, Chris. I figure y’all are right, this ain’t my trail, but I’ll still ride swing for you anytime you want. We’ve been through too much for that to change now, even if you have lost your minds.” He tipped his hat to Chris and Vin. “And on that note, I’ll leave you boys to whatever you had planned, long as you don’t tell me about it. Seein’ you kiss was more than enough for this old cowboy to know about what you get up to when I ain’t around. I got a pretty lady and a steak the size of my head waitin’ on me, so I’ll be going now. Night.”

Buck heeled his grey around without another word and flicked his hand forward with the reins. Misty leapt from a standing start into a gallop, headed for the trail towards town.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Vin watched Buck’s grey mare until she disappeared into the trees on the crest of the hill, then turned his attention to Chris and had to really work at it not to laugh. Chris was scowling after Buck like he’d run off with Chris’ hat, or maybe his gun. Vin nudged him, grinning. “Lighten up, cowboy. He’s gonna be fine, just like I told you.”

Chris looked at Vin, still scowling. “An’ I still wanna know how you were so damned sure Buck wouldn’t have a fit. I seen him beat a man near to death once for comin’ at him a little too friendly. How’d you know Buck wasn’t gonna do the same to us, or try to at least?”

Vin grinned wider. “’Cause we ain’t gonna touch him, or at least I won’t. I dunno about you, but I’m too damned smart to try and get in that tall drink o’ water’s britches. He’d shoot me, sure as I’m standin’ here. He’d be sorry after, sure, but that wouldn’t help me none.”

Chris blinked and then laughed. “He might, at that.”

“And then you’d feel beholden to shoot him,” Vin added, still grinning, “and you’d be so lost without either one of us t’ take care of you that you’d follow us in the ground within a week. You’re better off stickin’ with me and lettin’ Buck chase his ladies. He’s hung like a horse, sure, but he wouldn’t be near as eager to bend over for you as I am.” Vin winked and then headed into the cabin, picking up his gun along the way.

Chris knew well what Buck looked like naked after seeing everything Buck had to offer more times over the years than he cared to recall, and he shuddered as he headed inside after Vin. “Buck can keep his hind end just as far from me as he wants. I seen grizzlies with less hair.”

Vin laughed. “Shut the door, Chris. You’re lettin’ the bugs in.”

Chris chuckled and shut the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

 

Vin settled back against a post with not much more than a twinge, leaving one bare foot on the ground while he propped the other up next to him on the porch. He wasn’t as sore as he had expected to be and he figured he was pretty lucky that Chris had been so insistent on taking things slow. At the time it had been frustrating, but damned if it didn’t make him appreciate Chris a little more once he wasn’t horny half out of his mind. It had been a long time for him, and sitting in the saddle all day again with a sore ass would have been hell.

Vin chuckled softly to himself and shook his head slightly. He would’ve rushed things and been a lot more uncomfortable to pay for it if Chris hadn’t flat refused to move on to the actual fucking until _he_ was satisfied that Vin was ready. Chris hadn’t ever been with a man before him, but he'd done so much with women that he knew exactly how to go about it. Next time Vin wasn’t going to waste his breath arguing that he wasn’t made of glass, he was going to just lie back and enjoy being driven out of his mind. It had been embarrassing that Chris had been so fascinated by playing with his ass after he accidentally found that spot inside that made Vin writhe like a cat in heat, but it had felt so good that Vin sure wouldn’t be complaining any time soon.

He looked off down the meadow, grinning as he made out the dark shapes of Pony and Peso. They were both grazing but Peso’s blazed face kept lifting to look towards Vin, making it easy to tell them apart even in the moonlight. He figured it wouldn’t be long before Pony noticed he was there and headed in. The gelding couldn’t hardly resist if he saw Vin or Chris sitting on the porch. Pony was a firm believer in begging, mostly because Chris and Vin were both hard-pressed to ignore the loyal gelding’s pleas for affection or a treat.

Vin tipped his head back with a smile and looked up at the sky to check the weather while he waited for the horses to wander up. There were clouds riding a freshening wind past the moon in a constant stream towards the east as fast as a horse could run, but they obviously weren’t anything to worry about. The fragile wisps of vapor didn’t even block out the moonlight, barely solid enough to call clouds as they caught the light and seemed almost to glow from within. The night was much brighter than a half-moon normally was because of that silvery glow, which made it easy to see even under the porch overhang.

Vin looked off down the meadow again after a minute or two and chuckled softly to himself when he saw the horses were on the move. Pony was cantering towards the cabin well ahead of Peso, who was following at a slow trot and still often ducking his head to grab a bite of grass. Pony was likely hoping for his breakfast even though dawn was most of two hours away yet, but he would be almost as happy with a little attention. Peso only followed along just in case Pony was right about the grain.

Vin and Chris planned to ride out early, mostly because they had worked up an appetite last night, and Vin figured that he might as well feed the horses. After the stew Chris had made the night before, they didn’t have much food left other than jerky that Chris was in no hurry to eat because Vin had rubbed an extra helping of ground-up hot peppers on the last batch he made. It would save them some time later to have the horses stalled and ready to saddle up, and gave him something to do until Chris woke up. Vin would’ve made coffee, but Chris would have just fussed about it and said Vin ruined the last of the Arbuckle’s. Chris liked his coffee about half as strong as Vin made it, and wouldn’t listen when Vin just told him to add water to it instead of bellyaching.

Vin might’ve gone back to bed with Chris after his morning trip to the outhouse if he didn’t know he wouldn’t be falling asleep again any time soon. Years of being up before the sun had taught him that once his body decided it had enough shut-eye he would be awake for the day whether he particularly wanted to be or not. Chris was much the same and seldom slept until dawn even when he had been drinking, a fact that had always made staying near wherever Chris wound up sleeping just a bit more enjoyable for Vin. Chris was good company for that first cup of coffee in the pale light of early morning, despite the fact hangovers sometimes made him act like a bear with sore tooth.

Pony slowed to a walk as he got close, but he continued right up to the porch to drop his head and nuzzle at the loose folds of Vin’s unbuttoned shirt, looking for a snack. Chris often snuck the gelding bits of bread, fruit, or even candy when he thought no one was looking, and Pony always checked to see if Vin would follow his example. Vin was one of his favorite people, the person most likely to feed and groom him other than his own rider, and Pony often treated Vin almost as if he were Vin’s horse. Pony had known Buck much longer, but Vin was pretty sure Buck had never spent an hour grooming Pony simply because he knew Pony liked the attention. Buck doted on his own mare, a Shiloh daughter he’d raised from a foal, but he usually ignored other horses unless he was betting on them.

Vin chuckled and ran one hand along Pony’s neck as he murmured, “You might as well stop lookin’, Pony. I don’t have anything for you today. We’re all outta dried apples, an’ there ain’t no bread or sweets either, just a little deer jerky you surely wouldn't like.”

Pony’s ears flicked at the sound of his voice and the black gelding lifted his head to look at Vin hopefully.

Vin rubbed just above the white star on Pony’s forehead where the browband of his bridle usually rode, amused by the gelding’s begging. Despite how little he normally liked a spoiled horse, he couldn’t help but cut Pony some slack. He knew that Adam had named Pony, who Chris had been riding when he took that last trip to sell those horses. Chris had planned for Pony to be Adam’s first horse after he put some miles on the young gelding to be sure he was as broke as his breeder said he was, but after his family’s deaths he kept riding Pony because he had lost everything else. Over the years some of the affection Chris would never get to give his son had been transferred to Pony, who Adam had adored, and knowing that made it easy for Vin to understand Chris’ tendency to spoil the gelding. Pony hadn’t ever let the pampering keep him from being a reliable mount and knew when he could be a beggar and when he needed to stick to business better than some people Vin had known.

Pony leaned into the attention with a happy little huff, head nodding slightly with each flex of Vin’s fingers, and Vin muttered, “He’s spoiled you plumb rotten, fellah.” He smiled suddenly, remembering the night before, then added just as softly, “Like to spoil me, too, if I let him. He seems to have a thing for pamperin’ folks he cares about.”

Pony was obviously relishing the attention so Vin kept scratching, amused by the faces Pony made and enjoying the gelding’s affectionate company.

Vin’s fingers began to wander along the path around Pony’s throat left by the gelding’s bridle, which Pony seldom went a day without wearing for at least a few hours, and let his gaze roam to his own horse. Peso really wasn’t at all like Pony, despite their similar coloring and being within a few years of the same age. Peso was all confidence with a streak of fierce independence that wouldn’t let him rely on anyone or anything but himself, but Pony was like a much younger kid just off the apron strings, old enough to be decent company but not old enough to think he didn’t need someone to look after him. Peso had been a full-grown stallion when Vin first saw him, already leading a herd and sure he could handle anything life could throw at him, but Pony had been gelded young and never spent even a day of his life without men to care for him.

Vin enjoyed his early mornings spent in such easy companionship with Pony, and sometimes it made him wistful for a little of that calm friendliness from Peso. Peso’s intelligence and toughness had saved Vin’s life quite a few times, but sometimes Vin still wanted a horse he could just enjoy. He had Peso’s loyalty and respect, but he was pretty sure that the rangy mustang didn’t have an affectionate bone in his body. The closest thing to affection that Peso ever doled out was tolerance, usually shown only by not taking advantage of a chance to bite or kick when it presented itself.

After a little while Vin noticed that there was loose hair clinging to the backs of his fingers, which were a lot dirtier than they had been, and he let out a soft sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “You’re startin’ to shed, fellah. I guess spring’s really here for good.” Shedding horses would mean hot, wet days for the next month or so, and Vin wasn’t much looking forward to them. He liked the rain better than he did ice and snow, but the foothills could get muggy as hell in the rainy season. He would spend half the time feeling like he’d had a bucket of warm water dumped on him, but he knew it’d pass in a month or so and then the land and air would dry out again.

Pony leaned more into the way Vin’s fingers were scratching along his jawline, and Vin noticed that Peso had finally reached the barn and was watching them. He stopped scratching Pony, smiling as he patted the gelding’s neck. “Alright Pony, that’s enough. My fingers are gettin’ tired, and Peso’s hungry too.”

Pony nudged at Vin hopefully, but when he didn’t get more scratching he heaved a sigh.

Vin grinned at the reproachful look Pony was giving him. “Might as well give it up, Pony.” He pushed Pony back a step and then stood, beginning to button the blue-striped shirt he wore as he padded silently towards the barn. It wasn’t his shirt, but he didn’t have another clean and Chris’ shirts fit him well enough not to be embarrassing. He planned to wash his own clothes in the next day or two, and it wasn’t the first time he’d borrowed one of Chris’. Chris hardly ever wore the shirt, so it wasn’t like Vin had taken one Chris would particularly want to wear that day. Vin had only seen him in the blue-striped shirt twice, and both times had been because Chris didn’t have anything else clean.

Pony turned and fell in at Vin’s shoulder just as Vin had known he would, walking as if he were being led even though Vin didn’t bother. Pony liked Vin as much because of his talented fingers as because Vin was usually the one to feed him his morning grain, and had trailed along behind Vin many times just to keep him company. Pony would follow him through a blizzard if he thought he might get some food or a little attention when they got to wherever they were going.

Peso pawed the ground where he stood by the barn door, shaking his head down low and then flipping his muzzle up high before he stilled to watch Vin approach. The mustang gelding had given Vin his loyalty years ago, but he had never quite forgotten his formative years running wild. He remembered that extra spark a stallion had every once in a while, and that morning looked to be one of those times. That’d be a good thing if they had to make tracks somewhere since Peso always put just a bit more heart into anything he did when he was feeling his oats, but that wasn’t too likely to be necessary that particular day.

Vin started tucking in his shirt as he reached the barn door, giving Peso a level look on his way by. “You better not try to take a hunk out of me this morning, boy. I’ll slap the fire out of you if you do, I promise.”

Peso pretended to ignore him, standing still and just watching as Pony followed Vin into the barn, but the glint in his eyes was much too familiar to Vin for him to believe the gelding was ready to settle down. Peso would probably spend the day making Vin’s life more interesting out of sheer boredom, but that was a price Vin willingly paid to have a horse smart and independent enough to keep them both alive. Peso was as much a part of Vin as his arm, and had saved his life more times than he could possibly count. He had paid hard for the gelding’s loyalty, even buried someone he loved because of Peso, but he had learned young that great gifts always had a high price.

Vin headed towards the feed room, making his way there and up the step into the room unerringly even in the dark, and shrugged into his suspenders just before he reached for the empty bucket on the feed bin. The bin itself was nearly empty, but there was enough to feed Pony and Peso with a handful or two left over, though Vin would have to work at it to get it out of the bin. Vin wasn’t about to leave Pony and Peso unfed so he patiently chased the remaining feed around the bottom of the bin until he had measured out grain for them both.

Peso walked into the barn doorway when he heard the rattle of grain in the bucket. He stopped as soon as he could see Vin through the door to the feed room, watching him interestedly but not going to his stall. He didn’t particularly enjoy being cooped up and wouldn’t walk into his own stall half the time unless there was food involved or he thought another horse might dare to go in. Peso only wanted to be in the stall to eat, but that definitely didn’t mean he was willing to let another horse stand in there the rest of the time.

Pony had gone into his own stall and was taking a drink from his water bucket while he waited for his morning feed, too smart to fuss and fidget while he waited. The stocky gelding knew Vin would feed him in just a minute or two, so he didn’t waste the energy. Feed before dawn meant they had places to go, and that meant he’d be working soon enough.

Vin reached for the molasses jug on the shelf above the bin and added some to the grain, then stirred it around with the oak stirring paddle from the same shelf. Chris had cut a thick branch down a little more than a foot long and then whittled a handle at one end before he carved the rest of it into a uniformly smooth, flat shape almost four inches wide. It didn’t quite qualify as a spoon because the tool was so flat, but it did the job better than fingers or a regular stick would have, and made combining the feed and blackstrap a lot easier.

Vin finally finished stirring and scraped the paddle on the edge of the feed bucket, then put it away before he headed for Pony’s stall, glancing at Peso. “If you wanna eat, you better get in that stall. I’m not wrestlin’ you today, I’ll just give your feed to the sorrel.”

Vin knew Peso didn’t understand his threat beyond the tone of voice and the words ‘get in’, but Peso _did_ know the routine and that he had to go in his stall if he wanted fed. Peso snorted softly and pawed the ground while his rider was talking to him, but he stood his ground and watched Vin feed Pony before he finally heaved a sigh. The grain smelled particularly sweet that morning because Vin had accidentally poured too much molasses in the dark, and after hesitating only a moment longer Peso walked into his stall to stand at the feed trough and wait for his breakfast.

Vin grinned and followed Peso into the stall, patting the rangy black mustang’s shoulder as he stopped by him. “Good boy.” He poured the rest of the grain in Peso’s feeder, glad that the black gelding had behaved himself.

It was always an even chance whether Peso would throw a fit and take off out of the barn – just to make Vin yell, he often thought – or quietly go into his stall. Peso liked sweetened oats and corn well enough, but he didn’t _need_ it and he knew it as well as Vin did. Peso could live for months at a time off sagebrush and tumbleweeds and not much else, and had more than once. There wasn’t much a desert-bred mustang wouldn’t eat when he got hungry as long as it had been green at some point, and the grass on Chris’ place was lush and well past ankle deep already.

Vin stood petting Peso for a few minutes while the gelding ate, idly wishing again that he wouldn’t have had to give up Peso’s brains to get a little of the affection Pony was so free with. He liked a friendly horse as much as the next man who lived in the saddle, but he’d never met one that had half as much between their ears as a mustang did. Peso could be a pain in the ass but the black gelding had found water for Vin more times than he could count, and Peso wasn’t shy about lending a hoof or his teeth in a fight. Peso might take a bite out of Vin occasionally if Vin annoyed him, and he was like as not to bite people he knew that got too close to him, but he was _always_ quick to bite a stranger or an enemy.

Vin would have still ridden the gelding even if he wouldn’t fight or hunt water though, and for one very good reason that made up for every bite and kick Peso had ever given him. Peso, like most mustangs, could find his home range with the unerring certainty of a carrier pigeon if he was anywhere within a hundred miles of it. Chris’ place was the closest thing Vin or Peso had known to a permanent home since Vin helped round up the herd Peso had run wild with, and Peso had come to view Chris and Pony as their herd. Chris’ land was a near paradise for horses with a well-watered meadow and a spring-fed creek that didn’t dry up even in the hottest part of the summer, and Peso loved it there.

As long as Vin could tie himself to the saddle, he could always count on Peso to get him home when he was too hurt to find his own way. Peso had only had to prove it once, but that one time was more than enough to earn the respect of the rest of the Seven. A bullet had grazed Vin’s head and he had barely managed to tie himself in the saddle before he passed out. Peso had carried him most of twenty miles to get him home safe even though Peso was bleeding steadily because every stride aggravated a bullet wound in Peso's own shoulder.

Vin didn’t remember any of it after he tied himself to the saddle, but Ezra had told him later that Peso had carried Vin through town near sunset, going right past Josiah, Buck, and JD at a gallop. By the time the rest of the Seven had caught up to him, Peso was at Chris’ barn and in a real state, attacking anyone who approached except Pony. Peso had refused to let Chris near him on foot for a while even after Chris and Pony shouldered him into the barn, but he had finally stood for Chris to take Vin out of the saddle and then followed like a hen with one chick until Chris carried Vin outside.

The others had spooked Peso back with a bucket of water thrown in his face and slammed the door before Peso could follow Chris outside, locking him in the barn for JD and Josiah to get him into his stall and unsaddle him. JD found the blood all over Peso while they were unsaddling him, but Peso was so angry and Vin had been so badly hurt that JD let himself be persuaded it wasn’t Peso’s blood. Nobody found the bullet wound in Peso’s shoulder until he was led out into the corral early the next morning, and by then Peso was holding a grudge against the men who separated him from his rider. The gelding wasn’t very lame and the wound was scabbed over well, so Josiah had decided it was best to leave him alone, sure that the fight to treat the bullet wound would do more harm than good.

Chris wouldn’t leave Vin’s side until Vin was out of danger and sleeping peacefully later that morning, but when he did the first thing he went to do was take care of Peso. Vin had slept through that day and most of another, but Ezra told him later that Chris spent hours grooming Peso that day and Peso had just stood there and allowed it despite the fact he attacked any of the others who dared enter the corral. Peso had allowed Chris to handle him, even let Chris clean out the hole in his shoulder and put some salve Nathan whipped up into it, and Chris had spent most of the day talking to Peso while he patiently brushed all the dried blood out of his coat.

Chris had pampered the gelding at any opportunity ever since, despite calling him names whenever Peso acted up, and Peso returned the favor by not trying to hurt Chris when he had the chance. They had a truce between them rather like the one Vin had with Peso, and he sometimes wondered if maybe the rangy gelding would let Chris ride him. Peso obviously trusted Chris a lot more than he did anyone else Vin had known since he caught Peso, and he wondered idly on occasion just how far Peso’s trust for Chris went.

Despite his curiosity, though, Vin would never encourage Chris to try testing Peso’s tolerance of him. Peso could throw _anyone_ who dared sit in his saddle at any time he chose, including Vin, and Vin cared too much for Chris to let him try something so dangerous as trying to ride Peso. Peso had killed several men who tried to ride him over the years, including Vin’s closest friend who had unthinkingly jumped on Peso after his own horse bolted during a buffalo stampede. Vin would have hesitated to let Chris on Peso’s back even it was the only way to get Chris out of harm’s way. Peso could be more dangerous than just about anything Vin could think of that Chris might need to get away from.

Vin had gained Peso’s trust and friendship after a very rocky start between them, and in return Peso had stopped trying constantly to kill him. Even on the rare occasion that he asked more than Peso wanted to give, Peso usually tolerated what Vin needed of him, but he knew quite well that there was nothing broken about Peso’s spirit and never would be. The rangy mustang would die fighting before he gave in to anyone who tried to force him to do anything, as he proved every time Buck got frustrated by Peso’s antics and tried to manhandle him into behaving himself. Vin could safely argue with Peso only because Peso knew Vin respected his opinions and trusted that Vin wouldn’t fight him unless it was important. Anyone else who dared the gelding’s limited tolerance was met with sharp teeth and flashing hooves.

Vin shook himself out of his thoughts and patted Peso’s shoulder just above the pale scar where the bullet was still lodged in the bone of his shoulder, smiling and thinking that Peso’s loyalty made every nip and kick he’d ever gotten from the black gelding worth it. He sometimes wished for more affection from the stubborn mustang, but he wouldn’t really change Peso for the world. Sure, it could be rough having a one-man horse and not being able to let many people handle him without risking they’d get hurt, but it was a price Vin would pay as long as he had to.

He turned away to go put up the bucket and then went and scooped up an armload of hay out of the empty side of the barn to carry to the Calhoun horses. He’d have to remember to stop by the livery and make arrangements for feed to be delivered, but he figured the Calhoun horses would be fine on hay for the morning. They would hopefully be in the Calhoun barn by lunchtime, and Danny would enjoy feeding the horses while he got to know them.

Vin preferred not to grain a horse before working it anyway unless he knew the horse was used to it like Peso and Pony were. Peso and Pony worked hard for a living, sometimes covering over forty miles in a day, and they needed every bit of their morning and evening feed to make up for all the lost grazing time. The Calhoun horses would go out on pasture as soon as Danny had gotten to know them, Vin was sure, so he wasn’t worried about slighting them. The fenced pasture he’d seen at the Calhoun farm was rich enough they shouldn’t need grain with it.

The only one that was underweight was the sorrel gelding, and Vin thought that was more due to exhaustion than anything else. Besides being on the skinny side, the sorrel had four white feet, which was something Vin had never liked in a horse unless it was a paint because pale hooves were usually a lot softer than dark ones. The sorrel had old nail holes in his feet and one back hoof was chipped like he had thrown a shoe, so Vin figured he had been shod until recently, but he was barefoot when they killed the outlaws and his hooves were worn so short it was no wonder he was going lame.

As if his hooves being worn down almost to the quick weren't bad enough, the sorrel had sand cracks in the hoof walls as well. The hairline cracks in the hard outer layer of hoof were caused by the hoof drying out, which usually happened when a horse spent too much time on dry sand while it wasn't getting enough water to drink. The sand cracks made the gelding prone to bruising that could lame him even without an obvious reason, and the cracks could split at any time if he traveled on rocky ground and put a foot wrong. One of the sand cracks had already widened into a definite split the day before, but Vin hadn’t noticed it until they got home because of all the mud. It wasn’t a bad split, but it had been bothering the sorrel some and might get worse at any time if he landed on it wrong.

Vin tossed the hay to the three horses in the corral and then moved to the half-empty water barrel to wash the sticky molasses off of his hands. He primed the pitcher pump and began to refill the barrel as soon as his hands were clean, ducking to take a drink just below the spout after the water had run a minute. The water was cold and refreshing and Vin enjoyed a leisurely drink before he lifted his head again to watch the horses eating their hay.

He worked the pump slowly to fill the barrel while he watched the horses eat, idly comparing the quality of the paint mare and the sorrel gelding. She was also barefoot with four white feet, but her hooves were in fine shape and showed no sign of cracking or excessive wear. She also had a really nice head on her, a short back, nice low knees and hocks with sturdy bone, and a look to her blue eyes that Vin liked. She was interested in what went on around her and had been alert and willing on the trail, and Vin would have liked her a lot even if she weren’t a medicine hat.

The sorrel gelding wasn’t a bad looking horse, but Vin wouldn’t put him in the same league with the paint, or even the Calhoun family’s bay harness mare. The sorrel’s head was a bit narrow through the forehead, and he had a sullen look in his eyes that led Vin to think he would likely never put out an ounce more effort than he had to. That was fine for an adult who wanted a flashy sorrel to ride and could work the gelding to get the best out of him, but Vin would never recommend such a horse for a child. Peso, ornery as he could be when he was on a tear, had a better look to his eye than the sorrel did, though Vin wouldn’t have put a child up on Peso’s back for all the gold in California.

Vin had nearly finished filling the barrel when he finally noticed there was a light in the cabin, and he smiled. Chris was up, likely brewing the last of the coffee, and Vin suddenly didn’t want to putter around outside making work for himself anymore. He let the handle of the pump fall and headed back towards the house, moving faster than he had on the way out and smiling. He could stand spending a leisurely hour or so enjoying some coffee with Chris and relaxing while they waited for the sky to lighten.

Peso and Pony knew the trail well enough to travel it in the dark, but the Calhoun horses would do better with light when they crossed a rocky area about a mile off. A horse unfamiliar with shale could get hurt if they didn’t pay attention there, and the gelding was already sore-footed to begin with.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Chris poured a second mug of coffee, making a low pleased noise as he inhaled the steam, and then he put the pot back on the edge of the stove to stay hot. He picked up the other battered enamel mug and carried both of them out to the porch, smiling when he saw Vin approaching. Vin hadn’t bothered to grab his hat or coat yet, but his gunbelt rode in its usual place low on his hips, the custom holster for the sawed-off Winchester balanced by a heavy-bladed fighting knife Vin could use at least as well.

“G’mornin’.” Chris took a seat in his chair by the door as he held out one of the mugs with a smile. He couldn’t really think of a better way to start the day than enjoying a cup of coffee with Vin, even if he had made the coffee too strong just to be sure Vin enjoyed it too. He’d heard how weak Vin thought most coffee was often enough to know Vin wouldn’t enjoy it unless he threw in the last two spoonfuls of Arbuckle’s. “Coffee?”

“Mornin’,” Vin answered, taking the steps two at a time and walking over to accept the mug. He immediately took a careful sip, humming softly and then giving Chris a pleased grin. “Thanks.”

Chris returned the grin and sipped his own diluted coffee, stifling a chuckle as he finally noticed that Vin was barefoot. It was so typical that Vin would grab his gun but not bother with his boots. He waited for Vin to take another drink before he teased, “Figured I’d better make coffee before you got bored and tried. Wasn’t enough for a second try and you got a habit of ruining it.”

Vin almost choked on the hot coffee, swallowing to laugh. “My ass!”

“—Is real nice, sure, but that ain’t got nothin’ to do with you ruinin’ coffee.” Chris smirked and sipped his coffee, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Vin laughed, blushing red enough that Chris could see it even in the dim light of early morning. “You’re in a good mood.”

Chris’ smirk widened. “I got good reason to be. You’re with me, aren’t you?”

Vin smiled, looking pleased. “Not likely to be goin’ anywhere without you, either.”

Chris gestured expansively with his mug. “Then there ain’t much more a body could want than what I got. Nice place, a good horse, friends that’ll stand firm in a fight, and I’ve got you to top it off.”

Vin chuckled softly. “Well, when you put it that way…” He sat on the porch at Chris’ feet, settling his shoulder against Chris’ knee and then lifting his mug to sip at his coffee with another happy little hum.

Chris smirked and took a drink of his coffee as he looked out over the meadow, making a mental note he needed to see about getting another chair for the porch. Might even be worth the trouble to get a porch swing. He’d always liked them, and he liked the idea of sharing one with Vin while they watched their horses graze. If he had his way, he and Vin would spend a lot of early mornings out there relaxing with a cup of coffee, as long as he made it, of course.

Vin had learned to make coffee from an old mountain man who thought a horseshoe should _stand up_ in it. It made a pot of Arbuckle’s last longer, mostly because Chris had to cut his half with water to stand it, but it usually tasted like Vin had added some charcoal for extra flavor. By the time the water could boil up through all the grounds, the stuff on the bottom was usually well and truly burnt.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7

 

 

Buck settled back in his chair, propping his foot on the rain barrel and watching the town gear up for a new day as he wondered when Chris and Vin would ride in. He expected it wouldn’t be past noon, if only because they knew Miss Lorrie needed her mare back, but he didn’t dwell on why they might be tired enough to sleep late.

Not that, of course, he had been able to think about much else the night before. Even Maggie had commented on him being distracted at dinner with her, asking if he was worried about his friends. The whole town knew Chris and Vin had gone out tracking the men who murdered Rory Calhoun, and it didn’t seem to surprise her a bit that Buck was restless. Buck had let Maggie think she knew why he was spending so much time brooding during their meal and then tried hard to pay her the attention she deserved, and she had seemed happy enough that morning that he figured he did a decent job of it.

The door to the jail closed behind him but Buck didn’t bother to look, sure it was JD that was dragging the other chair across the boardwalk behind him. No one else had been in the jail to be leaving it, which cut down on the possibilities considerable.

The young deputy put the chair next to Buck and flopped down in it a moment later, bright-eyed and sincere as only JD could be at barely an hour past sunup. “Hey Buck, you think Chris and Vin are okay? They’ve been gone a week today, and we said we’d go after them if they were out longer than that. They could be hurt or something.”

Buck chuckled and glanced over at JD, who looked eager as a pup scenting rabbit. The boy just wanted an excuse to saddle up and ride out like an avenging hero after his friends, and Buck knew it as well as he knew his name. “You’ll be seein’ them soon enough, JD. You weren’t in the saloon when I got back from checkin’ his place last night, and it plumb slipped my mind to tell you at breakfast that they stopped there to rest the horses. They’ll be ridin’ through towards the Calhoun place before long.”

“Oh.” JD’s face fell and he looked down, scuffing his toe against the boardwalk.

Buck’s mustache twitched as he looked back out at the people on the street, tipping his hat and nodding to a pretty girl who was riding by in a buckboard with a young man he figured was her older brother. She wasn’t being affectionate enough for him to be her beau, and she looked too young to be married. Of course, she was way too young for Buck, too, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t admire a bit. A little innocent appreciation never hurt anyone, and he knew better than most how to walk the fine line between flirting and courting.

Buck looked back at JD after the girl had passed, and he had to grin at the very definite pout on JD’s face. JD was a great kid, but he loved danger just a little bit too much for Buck’s comfort, even after all the scrapes he’d gotten in to. JD wasn’t nearly so quick to use his gun anymore, but he still had that wide streak of wild running through him that kept getting him in trouble. The kid had been downright hesitant to shoot since an accident stopping a bank robbery more than a year ago, so much so in fact that he’d gotten himself shot three times since then trying to do his job without a gun.

They had traded jobs a few times because of JD’s injuries, enough that half the people in town called them both Sheriff even though Buck had that reluctant pleasure at the moment. Buck had at least gotten JD to wear his guns again, and to practice with him a few times a week, so he figured it would only be a matter of time before JD got his confidence back and Buck could finally take off the badge he was wearing. Helping out JD when he was sheriff was one thing, but Buck would never have taken on the shiny target himself if Mary and JD both hadn’t begged him to after Chris high-tailed it out of town with Vin to avoid being asked again. Buck figured Chris had the right idea, and he could hardly wait to get the damned target pinned to JD’s vest again where it belonged.

JD looked at Buck again after a minute, brightening. “If they’ll be back today, I guess that means we get some time off soon, right?”

Buck looked over at JD, grinning again. “Ought to, if they don’t get themselves wrapped up doing something for Miss Lorrie. Nathan’s been helping out on her place, but you know how Vin is when a lady needs a hand. She has crops to plant yet and who knows what else needs done around her place.”

JD snickered and nodded, rolling his eyes. “I swear, sometimes I think he’s sweet on half the ladies around here.”

Buck wasn’t even sure Vin _noticed_ the ladies around town, especially not after what he’d seen the night before at Chris’ place. He hadn’t ever seen Vin go after a woman except for Charlotte, and looking back now he wondered if Vin would have even noticed her if Charlotte’s husband hadn’t treated her so bad. Vin was sweet as could be to ladies most of the time and would do just about anything for a lady he figured was in trouble, but Buck hadn’t ever seen him look at anyone the way Vin had looked at Chris the night before. Vin’s smile while he was pinned to that wall had been so different from his usual expression that Buck hadn’t quite believed he had seen it at first, and combined with the way Vin and Chris had played around it had brought home just how different both of them were acting. He’d seldom seen Vin without at least some hint of that guarded expression of his, and it had been years since he saw Chris so relaxed and cheerful as he had been while he was chasing Vin. He was happy for them, despite his serious misgivings.

“Nah, he’s just got a soft spot for the motherly type,” Buck disagreed after only a moment, his grin still firmly in place. JD looked skeptical so Buck added, “If you pay attention, JD, you might notice it’s the ladies with half-grown kids and the grannies that he’s such a pushover for. He lost his ma to a fever when he was pretty young, I think.” Nettie had been the one to tell him that and the canny old lady was always right on the money with her little tidbits of gossip.

“You _must_ be speaking of the inimitable Mr. Tanner,” Ezra said dryly, sauntering up beside Buck. “Did they return while I enjoyed my morning repast?”

JD snickered as Buck looked at Ezra, wondering how he knew about Vin’s ma. “Nope, they didn’t wander in while you was feedin’ your face.” Ezra snorted softly at Buck’s rephrasing, making Buck grin a little wider. “Chris and Vin pushed the horses pretty hard to get back by the deadline we gave ‘em, so I imagine they’ll take their time ridin’ in today.”

“Mmm.” Ezra looked down the west road in the direction of the Larabee place as he said thoughtfully, “Much as I might enjoy a morning of idle gossip with you two fine upstanding lawmen, it sounds as though my services will not be needed today.” He flashed Buck and JD a smirk. “As such, this is the perfect opportunity for an enterprising gentleman such as myself to indulge in a profitable game of chance with the locals.” He tipped his hat to them and started back towards the saloon. “Enjoy your sheriffing, boys.”

“Have fun, Ezra,” Buck said, grinning.

Ezra paused to look back, smirking. “I most certainly shall. Today _is_ payday.” He ignored Buck and JD’s snickers as he continued on down the sidewalk towards the saloon, which hadn’t yet opened the front curtains to signal it was open for business but would after Ezra settled in for the day. It was well known to be one of his favorite perks of owning the place, or at least most of it.

“If they’re not going to be riding in soon I may as well go patrol,” JD said with a grin, bouncing to his feet. He got a kick out of walking around town and having people greet him as Sheriff JD, which most locals still did even though he was officially the deputy. “You wanna come along?”

Buck chuckled. “Nah, you go on and enjoy, I’ll just sit here a spell and do the whole visible presence bit.”

JD grinned a little wider. “It works better when Chris does it. Nobody’s as scared of you as they are of him. You smile too much.”

Buck laughed and took off his hat to swing it at JD. “Get outta here, boy! Go find somebody else to bother!”

JD snickered and stepped off the boardwalk into the street, tipping that ridiculous hat of his to an elderly woman and her husband as their wagon passed him and then crossing the street to start his rounds.

Buck watched JD go for a moment, grinning, and then turned to look back down the street to the west for two familiar figures. He didn’t find them and let his gaze wander again, hardly even thinking about their relationship anymore. Sometime during the night it seemed to have worked out in his head, because when he got up it hadn’t seemed nearly as important who Chris was taking into his bed as it had the night before. Vin was good folks and Buck figured he could stand them being attached a little closer than before, even if he didn’t really understand it or approve. Besides, he didn’t figure it’d be possible to drive a wedge in between them this far down the road, and trying to do something that stupid was liable to get him shot.

Buck saw one of the girls who worked in the hotel saunter out of the alley across the street, and he smirked as he watched her head off down the boardwalk with her hips swaying. He lifted his other foot to the rain barrel, crossing his feet at the ankle as he settled in to just enjoy the view, secure in the knowledge no one would say anything against him loitering and watching the ladies go by. It was, after all, his job to keep an eye on things.

Sometimes it was pretty nice to be a lawman.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Chris and Vin had ridden out when the sun was barely up, but the trip into town had taken at least twice as long as it usually did even when they were taking their time. They had been forced to set such a slow pace because the sorrel gelding they had liberated from the outlaws had slid in the shale about a mile from Chris’ place and was strongly favoring his split front hoof whenever they crossed hard ground. He was barely lame on soft ground, and wasn’t hurt bad enough Vin thought they needed to worry about moving him, but they still held down their pace and they had stopped several times for Vin to check the sorrel's hoof again to make sure the injury wasn't getting worse. The gelding’s hooves were worn too short for it to do any good to stop in town and have him shod, and Vin thought he’d make it to the Calhoun place if they took it slow. It was just going to be a very long walk because the ground was sure to be hard for much of the trip.

Chris and Vin finally turned onto main street around ten, letting their horses amble along with the Calhoun horses following in a line behind Pony. The street was fairly crowded since many in the area who made a trip into town on Saturday tried to finish up early, as much to take advantage of the coolest part of the day as because cowboys came out of the woodwork on Saturday afternoons and loved to stir up trouble.

Chris snickered suddenly and Vin glanced at him, meeting Chris’ amused gaze and then following his nod towards the jail, which was beyond a freight wagon that had headed into town just about the same time they did. “Someone had fun last night, looks like.”

Vin laughed when he saw Buck sitting in front of the jail with his feet up on the rain barrel and his hat pulled down over his eyes, obviously asleep. Vin looked back at Chris, grinning wickedly and raising an eyebrow even though he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

Chris winked at Vin and then guided Pony – and the Calhoun horses he had in tow – across the crowded street into the gap between the rain barrel and the hitch rail. Buck was oblivious to his approach, and Chris wasted no time turning Pony to one side to heel him in close enough that Chris could kick Buck’s feet off the barrel.

Buck flailed and he and the chair both fell over to land on the boardwalk with a bang. Buck barely managed not to fall off the boardwalk as he hollered, “What the hell?!”

Chris fought hard not to laugh, backing Pony out of the gap and then letting him stand while the Calhoun horses sidled away from Peso’s snapping teeth as Vin pulled Peso up next to Pony. Chris shot Vin a glance and they both barely managed to keep from snickering as they looked back over to watch Buck right himself. It only took Buck a minute to get to his feet and start dusting off his clothes with his hat as he gave them a murderous scowl.

“Chair throw you, Buck?” Chris asked mildly, even though his eyes were sparkling with restrained laughter.

“They’ll do that when you let your guard down,” Vin added sagely, trying hard to keep his expression deadpan. “Wily things, chairs.”

“Especially when you put ‘em so close to the street,” Chris agreed, nodding.

“Oh, ha ha.” Buck mostly managed to keep scowling, but his mustache twitched a bit and gave away the fact he wanted to laugh. “You two jokers are just plumb proud of yourselves for pickin’ on a poor tired ol’ cowboy, ain’t you?”

Chris smirked at Buck, crossing his wrists and leaning against his saddle horn. “More amusing than babysittin’ these horses, I got to admit.”

Vin snickered and added, “Especially when one of ‘em’s lame and slowing us down. Ridin’ through the canyons this week didn’t do his feet any good at all, and that shale patch between Chris’ place and town was too much for him.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

Buck righted his chair and then sat back down and put his feet up on the rain barrel again, though this time he braced them firmly instead of just crossing them at the ankle. “Miss Lorrie’d likely rather you left him at the livery, then.” He looked the three horses over, having no trouble spotting which one had harness marks on her or that the sorrel was the one favoring a split front foot, then added, “No reason to drag him all the way out there and lame him any worse when she’s likely to just sell him. Shouldn’t be hard for Yosemite to find him a spot in town until Miss Lorrie is ready to sell him, and it’ll save her the trouble of bringin’ him back in later. They don’t have stalls for more than two horses out on their place, and I’d think Danny’s more likely to want that paint if his ma lets him keep one of ‘em. It’s a nice one, even if it is wall-eyed.”

“She,” Vin corrected, grinning at Buck. “And there’s nothin’ wrong with blue eyes, ‘specially on a medicine hat.”

“Says you,” Buck replied, snickering. “Never met a wall-eyed horse I liked yet, I don’t care what kinda hat she’s wearin’.”

JD hurried up from across the street then, looking up at Chris and Vin as he stopped and patted Pony’s neck, careful not to get too close to Peso. The mustang would bite anyone but Chris that touched him while Vin was in the saddle, and often even when he wasn't. “Welcome back. Looks like you two didn’t have any trouble.”

“None to speak of,” Chris agreed, smiling at JD. “You keep your nose clean?”

JD grinned. “Yep. It’s been boring around here all week.”

Vin snickered. “Wait until tonight. Payday is just gettin’ started for most of the cowpokes ‘round here.”

Chris glanced at Vin, smiling wider, then back at JD. “We make it to Monday with the jail empty, then we’ll call it a slow week.”

Buck snorted, amused. “Hell, that ain’t gonna happen. We’ll have a few drunks by dawn tomorrow if nothing else. Ezra just got in a new shipment of that Highland Rye and a crate of good Kentucky bourbon, and the word’s spreadin’ like wildfire.”

“Must be easy, what with you helpin’ it along,” Vin said dryly.

JD laughed while Buck grinned at Vin and said, “Tellin’ you two don’t count. Even if you do get drunk we won’t be lockin’ either of you up. JD’s took enough lead to last him a while, and I never did like gettin’ perforated.”

“They wouldn’t shoot _us_ , Buck,” JD protested, grinning. “Might cuss us some, but they wouldn’t shoot at us for doin’ our jobs.”

One corner of Chris’ mouth twitched into something not quite a smile. “I dunno, I might if someone decided his job was lockin’ me up. I never much liked the view from a cell.”

“Not near enough sky,” Vin added as he looked at Chris. “It gets on a body’s nerves, bein’ all cooped up in there.”

Chris glanced at Vin. “Not to mention the company we’d get tossed in with. No tellin’ what kind of trash’ll wind up in there the day after payday.”

“Folks we don’t wanna be sleepin’ with, that’s for sure,” Vin said, acting as if he was seriously thinking it over. “Better make sure we claim one of the bunks if we do get hauled in. I’ll let you have the pillow if I can have the blanket. You never get cold.”

“Deal,” Chris agreed, nodding. “I never noticed you tossin’ and turnin’ too much, an’ you don’t snore any worse ’n me.”

Vin’s lips quirked slightly, almost a smirk. “You could get jailed with Josiah. He likes that Kentucky bourbon near as much as you do.”

Chris snorted, but it sounded more like a laugh. “He’d shake the roof down, loud as he is sawin’ logs when he’s drunk, an’ even if he didn’t he might kill me in my sleep.” Josiah had a habit of having vivid dreams when he was drunk and might wake up strangling a friend or trying to eat his hat, depending on the dream.

JD looked from Chris to Vin and back again, obviously unsure if they were serious or not. “We wouldn’t really lock you up just for having a few drinks. You know that, right?”

“They know, JD,” Buck said, amused. “They’re funnin’ you, and doin’ a pretty good job of it the way they got you backin' water.”

JD swatted Buck’s leg, blushing. “Shut up, Buck!”

Buck snickered, hiding his own lingering surprise that Chris and Vin had so openly discussed how best to share a bed. It didn’t take long for him to realize he shouldn’t be surprised, though. More than once when they were all in tight quarters he had seen Vin settle in about as close to Chris as he could get without being in his lap. Neither of them had ever made any explanation for it, but the rest of the Seven all knew there wasn’t such a thing as too close between Chris and Vin, and never had been. Josiah had said once that Chris and Vin reminded him of two wolves in hostile territory, pressing close so that each could feel if the other reacted to anything, and Buck had to agree it was an apt comparison. More than half the time they were touching when they weren’t on the move, and if they weren’t then they could be counted on to be close enough to reach out and touch each other. It was just the way they were, especially if there was a decent chance of trouble.

It had bothered him for a long time that Chris seemed to trust Vin more than him, but eventually Buck had accepted it as part of the inexplicable bond between them. Of course, now that he knew how close Vin and Chris had become, he was suddenly just as glad that Chris never wanted that kind of closeness with him.

The very idea of having to try and deal with Chris wanting in his pants was enough to put him off his feed.

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Don’t worry,” Buck said to Chris to get the conversation going again, “I’ll tell Inez to cut you off while you can still ride. I’ve had enough of haulin' your drunk ass out of a saloon.”

Chris smiled, bemused. “You won’t have to drag me out of a bottle of bourbon tonight, Buck.”

“Or anytime soon.” Vin grinned at Buck. “Last time he ‘bout shot my head off when I was comin’ back from the barn, and I told him I was gonna use the Comanche firewater cure on him if he got that drunk again.”

Chris groaned and laughed, looking down at his hands, but he didn’t say anything. Taking a pot shot at Vin had been one of the stupider things he’d ever done. For a minute there he had been terrified because he almost hurt Vin, and then he had seen the look in Vin's eyes and started worrying that Vin just might make him eat that sawed-off Winchester of his. Vin had gotten control of his temper though, and instead of force-feeding him a gun had shoved him outside in just his long-handle underwear, barefoot. Vin had stood on the porch with his gun and refused to let Chris back in his own cabin until he soaked his head in the water trough, even though it was cold enough Chris had to break up an inch of ice in the trough to do it.

By the time Chris got back indoors he was just about froze solid but very sober. They had ended up eating some leftover biscuits with Nettie’s blackberry jam and talking until he got warmed through. Vin had slept like a baby in his bedroll on the floor by the stove the rest of the night, too cold to sleep in the barn, but Chris had spent most of the time until morning watching Vin sleep.

Buck grinned. “I’m ‘fraid to ask.”

JD laughed. “Well, I’m not! What’s the Comanche firewater cure?”

Vin smirked. “A bullet.”

JD just went wide-eyed, but Buck laughed and said, “Yep, that might do it.”

“Cures ‘em every time,” Vin agreed, nodding. “They never get drunk again.” He paused and then added, “Of course, they don’t do much of anything else either, but...”

Chris laughed and stretched one foot out to kick at Vin’s leg, making Peso lay back his ears and nip at Pony irritably. “Alright, you had your fun makin’ me look a fool, now shut up and get that mule movin’. We’re gonna be all day taking these mares home as it is.”

Vin snickered and tipped his hat to Buck and JD. “See you later, Sheriff. Whichever one of you that is this week.”

Buck laughed and made a shooing gesture. “Go on, both of you get.”

Vin let Peso move out again and Chris tipped his hat to Buck and JD with a grin before he heeled Pony after Vin. The Calhoun horses trailed along behind them with the sorrel limping every stride, lugging back hard on his lead rope and making it obvious he didn’t want to start moving again.

 

~*~*~*~

 

JD watched them go for a minute and then turned to Buck. “Y’know, they sure are in a good mood today.”

Buck snickered. “You can say that again. Been a long time since I saw Chris so cheerful.”

Seeing Chris so much his old self went a long way to easing Buck’s last few doubts about what those two were doing, but that didn’t mean he’d enlighten JD as to why Chris and Vin were so pleased with themselves. Buck liked to gossip at least as much as JD did, but the kind of things he was pretty sure Chris and Vin had been up to just weren’t something he’d ever be spreading around, especially to JD. The kid was sheltered enough Buck figured he likely had no clue some men preferred sex with other men, and Buck would just as soon let him stay that way.

“Must have been some trip,” JD said, sitting down in the chair next to Buck. “Or maybe it’s the weather. It has been pretty nice out this week.”

Buck laughed and looked down the street towards the livery, where Chris had stopped again for the stable boy to untie the sorrel while Vin spoke to Yosemite at the blacksmith’s shop a bit further down the street. “Yeah, that must be it, JD,” he said, humoring him. “Spring has definitely sprung. You’d never know we were worried it’d snow just a few weeks ago.”

JD followed Buck’s gaze just as Chris joined Vin and they headed their horses off towards the far end of town at a jog, leaving the stable boy to coax the sorrel into the livery while Yosemite went back to shoeing a horse. JD turned back towards Buck again, looking kind of confused. “Come to think of it, though, they weren’t very cheerful last spring.”

Buck laughed and reached over to clap JD on the shoulder. “Better days now, kid. This time last year the jail was packed and we were all ridin’ in pairs just to stay alive.”

JD thought about that and then nodded, breaking into a sunny smile. He settled into the other chair a bit more comfortably and copied Buck’s position with his feet up on the rain barrel. “We must be doing something right then, huh? For it to not be that dangerous around here anymore, I mean.”

Buck grinned and shifted slightly to get more comfortable. “Seems that way t’ me.”

JD didn’t say anything else, but he was beaming.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8

 

 

“Whoa, there,” Nathan said quietly, leaning back into the reins slung around his body from shoulder to hip.

The bay roan he had borrowed from the Rawlins family for the day, a laid-back draft cross with the unlikely name of Sandspur, stopped with a sigh and then Nathan reached for the rag in his back pocket to wipe the sweat out of his face. It had been a long time since he plowed a field and he wasn’t used to the work anymore, but he didn’t mind doing it as much as he might have in another situation. He was glad he was just about done, though. Three more long rows to go and the whole field would be plowed and ready to plant.

After the heavy rains the day before, Mrs. Calhoun had been determined to get the corn planted before the ground could dry out again. Danny just wasn’t big enough to hold the heavy old plow steady and Mrs. Calhoun couldn’t walk very well without her walking stick, so they had decided to make do without the plow. When Nathan woke up and looked out of the loft that morning, Danny was in the field with a shovel, turning the ground by hand while his ma hobbled along behind him with a sack, using her walking stick to plant the corn.

It took Nathan half an hour to talk her into letting him borrow a horse and do the plowing while Danny planted, but it was worth the effort. Mrs. Calhoun shouldn’t be working at all yet, even though Nathan figured he had about as much chance getting her to stop as he did getting the field to plow itself. She looked like a delicate lady and her accent made it plain she was Yankee, but it hadn’t taken Nathan long to realize she was a lot tougher than she appeared. She was doing a lot better than she had been even the day before, and with her ribs wrapped up she could hobble around pretty well despite her injured knee.

“Can I get you something to drink, Nathan?” Mrs. Calhoun called from her seat on her front porch, watching him with a smile while she shelled dried purple-hull peas into a cloth bag. Danny had a similar bag slung over his shoulder as he walked the furrows Nathan had already plowed, planting corn while the ground was still damp from the rain. Mrs. Calhoun wanted to get in ten rows of corn, and the rest of the field – twelve more rows, when the last three were done – would be planted in peas, squash, and whatever root vegetables she could get started.

“No ma’am, I’m fine,” Nathan called back, smiling.

It had taken a few days, but Mrs. Calhoun had finally relaxed and started to trust him. She still jumped at unexpected noises sometimes, and anyone getting too close when she wasn’t ready for it always inspired a flash of panic, but most of the time she was doing well. Nathan figured she and Danny would be fine on their own at night once Chris and Vin got back with their wagon horse and the family rifle. The Calhouns couldn’t afford to replace the horse or the gun that the outlaws had taken from them, and Mrs. Calhoun was too proud to accept that much charity. She was only letting Nathan plow because he had insisted he missed being able to look at a plowed field and know that was all his work.

Foxy nickered suddenly and Nathan looked towards the pasture to see what had caught her attention. He followed the direction of the bay mare’s gaze towards the treeline a few hundred yards away, where two riders had just left the trees and were cantering slowly downhill along the faint trail that served as the Calhoun driveway. He had no problem recognizing them. Even at that distance the blaze on Peso’s face was almost as distinctive as the fringed leather coat his rider wore, and Larabee’s flat-crowned hat, black clothes, and black gelding marked him just as well.

Nathan smiled when he noticed there were two riderless horses following behind, one of them a flashy paint. Danny would enjoy that. The boy was horse crazy in a big way from what Nathan had seen in the last week, and bid fair to be an excellent rider if he got half a chance.

“It’s Chris and Vin, and they’ve got Nellie!” Danny called as he ran up next to Nathan. “Want me to tie Sandspur to the corral?”

“Might as well,” Nathan agreed, smiling down at Danny as he ducked out of the reins. “Need me to help unhitch him?”

“Nah, I got it,” Danny said confidently. “I been hitchin’ Nellie up by myself since I turned nine. Sandspur’s a good horse, he won’t kick at me.”

Nathan chuckled and offered Sandspur’s reins to Danny even though he knew the boy had only been nine for a few months. “He’s all yours then.”

Danny grinned and took the reins. “Thanks!” He moved to unhook Sandspur’s chain traces from the plow and then hung them up on the hooks on the hip of the gelding’s harness before he gathered the reins, flipping them up to loop them over the hames on Sandspur’s collar twice to keep them from dragging the ground.

The boy obviously knew what he was doing, so Nathan headed over to go sit a spell in the shade of the porch. He thought Mrs. Calhoun might feel safer if someone she knew well was close by while she talked to Chris and Vin. They were good men who would never hurt a lady, but Nathan knew they could sometimes be scary to folks who didn’t know them like he did. Chris had the kind of reputation that frightened some women right out of their senses, and Vin had a wildness to him sometimes after a hard trail that could make even ladies who knew him feel uncomfortable around him.

Mrs. Calhoun stood just as Nathan reached the porch, leaning on her walking stick and smiling. “You take the chair, Nathan. I’ll go in and get a jug of water, I’m sure your friends will be thirsty after their long ride.”

“They might be at that,” Nathan agreed, returning the smile even as he sat on the edge of the porch instead of taking the chair. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Mrs. Calhoun protested softly. “You men have done so much more for my son and I than you needed to. Giving your friends a cool drink in the heat of the day is the very least I can do after the way they’ve risked their lives for us.”

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate it, ma’am,” Nathan said with a smile, and Mrs. Calhoun just smiled and nodded before she walked inside.

Nathan turned to settle more comfortably on the edge of the porch while he watched Chris and Vin approach. The horses looked surprisingly fresh, as were their riders, and it only took him a moment to realize they must have gotten in the day before. He figured they had probably stopped at Chris’ place for the night, which only made sense considering the general direction they started out tracking the outlaws. If it were Nathan that had to pass his home after a week on the trail when he didn’t necessarily need to hurry anywhere, he knew he would have stopped for the night to clean up and get some sleep in his own bed.

Nathan waited for Chris and Vin to halt the horses and then said, “Looks like you found them.”

“Yep,” Chris said, swinging down out of his gelding’s saddle and dropping the reins. “Took us longer than we wanted to, but we got the bastards.”

Chris moved to untie the bay looking more pleased than Nathan had seen him in a long while, and Nathan decided the trip had done him good. Chris could get downright morose if he was left with nothing to do for too long, but a good fight or a hard ride chasing outlaws usually brought him out of it. It used to make Nathan wonder that killing a man cheered Chris right up, but now he thought he understood. Every outlaw Chris put a bullet into was – at least to Chris – one more outlaw who’d never kill someone’s family.

Vin chuckled and slid to the ground, adding, “And we brought back their gear for Miss Lorrie. Figured she can sell it to help her out around here.”

“That’s welcome news,” Nathan replied, smiling wider. “She and Danny sure could use the money.”

Danny ran up, slowing far enough away not to spook the horses as he walked over to Chris. “I sure am glad to see you, and Nellie, too!” He patted the bay’s shoulder and Nellie turned her head to shove the boy with her nose, almost knocking him down as she nickered softly to him.

Chris grinned at Danny as he untied the paint’s lead rope from Nellie’s neck, and then he offered both of the mares to Danny. “Looks like she’s glad to be home, too.”

“She hasn’t been near that friendly with us,” Vin added, smiling at Danny, who just beamed as he took the lead ropes from Chris.

Mrs. Calhoun came out of the house then with a small tray that held three tin mugs and a pitcher of water, limping and slow but smiling warmly. “I’m very glad to see you both back in one piece, Mr. Larabee, Mr. Tanner.”

Vin turned towards the porch, sweeping off his hat with a smile. “Vin, Miss Lorrie. We been through that, remember?”

“And I’m Chris,” Chris added, looking amused.

“Vin and Chris, then,” Mrs. Calhoun agreed, smiling at them both. “Would you like a drink? I’m afraid it’s only water, but it’s fresh from the well and still cold.” She poured a mug before either of them could answer and offered it to Nathan.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Nathan murmured with a smile, accepting the mug to sip at the cold water as he watched Chris and Vin talk to Mrs. Calhoun. They seemed to be on their best and most charming behavior and he was glad they had stopped the night before to get some rest. He’d seen both of them right off the trail and figured the smiling faces he saw on the men in front of him were due in no small part to a couple of hot meals and a good night’s sleep in their own bed.

“Yes ma’am, that’d be real nice,” Vin said with a smile, dropping his reins to walk over to the porch. “It’s been a long time since we left Chris’ place, and the water in my canteen’s near as hot as I am.”

Chris smiled and moved towards the paint mare to start unsaddling her. “I’d appreciate a drink myself, as soon as I get the gear off these mares. You’ll be needing to go through it, see what you want to keep and what you’ll sell.”

Danny’s eyes widened, looking at the saddle and pack on Nellie’s back and then at the one on the paint mare. “You mean all that stuff is ours?”

“Yep,” Chris replied, nodding. “The paint, too. And there’s another horse an' saddle in town at the livery. He pulled up lame this morning and we didn’t want to make it any worse with the long ride out here. His gear’ll be waiting for you at the jail next time you get into town, you can claim it then.”

Mrs. Calhoun looked floored as she handed Vin a mug of water and then just stared at Chris and the two mares, so Vin explained gently, “There weren’t any warrants on those outlaws that JD could find before we headed out, Miss Lorrie. That means as the person wronged you get their gear and their mounts. They sure won’t be needing ‘em, and you and Danny do.”

Mrs. Calhoun jerked to look at Vin, still surprised but suddenly a bit worried as well. “They have been taken care of? You’re sure?”

“Permanently,” Chris said firmly, carrying the paint’s pack and saddle over to put it on the porch with a solid thump. “We buried ‘em a few days ago.” He took off his hat and smiled up at Mrs. Calhoun reassuringly, brushing back his hair with his free hand. “You don’t need to worry about them coming back ever again, ma’am.”

Mrs. Calhoun silently offered Chris a mug of water, still looking as if she couldn’t quite believe it.

Nathan spoke up then, smiling widely at Chris and Vin. “You two done good, but I expect you know that better than I do.”

Chris grinned. “It was worth the ride.” He looked up at Mrs. Calhoun again and added, “That paint’s a real nice mare, ma’am. Vin and I have been thinkin’ she’d make a good riding horse for your boy. She’s got a lot of heart and a real good mind, and you’d still have the gelding we left in town to sell along with the gear.”

Vin smiled and nodded. “Might come a time before too long he’ll need a good horse. Mrs. Travis is talkin’ about startin’ up a regular school this fall on some land she bought just in back of the church meadow, an' she’s real good at teachin’. She’d make sure the boy learns all he should.”

Mrs. Calhoun looked at the two mares Danny was petting, taking in her son’s hopeful expression and the calm, interested look in the paint’s eyes, and then she smiled suddenly. “What do you think, Danny? Can you handle having your own horse? It’ll double your stable chores, and I’ll expect you to go to school once it starts. It’s been too long since you’ve attended a real classroom like you ought to, and it won’t hurt you to get up early enough to make it to class.”

“Boy, can I!” Danny exclaimed, grinning widely. “I don’t mind the extra work, Ma, or even riding in to school. She’s a beauty!”

Mrs. Calhoun smiled and nodded decisively. “All right then. We’ll keep her for now, see how you two do together.”

“Yeah!” Danny crowed, bouncing in place and then turning to run his hand over the paint’s face, beaming as the mare snuffled at his hair.

Chris handed his empty mug to Vin and moved over to strip the saddle off of Nellie, grinning. “I think you made a wise choice, ma’am. That mare’s tough and built real nice for a good using horse. She’ll do a solid day’s work and give you some nice foals if you want to breed her sometime down the road. Makin’ the ride to town and back every day won’t bother her a bit, even in foal.”

“And the gelding back at the livery should be fine after he’s stalled a while,” Vin added, smiling up at Mrs. Calhoun as he offered her Chris’ mug for a refill. “He wore his feet down pretty short crossing the canyon country this week, and the guy ridin' him didn't feed him none too good, but give him a few weeks of rest and a set of shoes and he should be sound. You’ll make enough off of his saddle and the rifle on it to pay his board eight or ten times over, so no reason for you to worry with him at all until he’s sound.”

Mrs. Calhoun refilled the proffered mug, smiling warmly at Vin. “Thank you. I don’t know what we would have done without your help.” She looked at Nathan, adding, “All of you. You men have been a godsend to my son and I.”

“Happy to help, ma’am,” Vin said with a smile.

“We didn’t have no other plans for this week,” Nathan added with a grin, pleased that Chris and Vin had done so well by Mrs. Calhoun. He had expected them to do their best for her, but there had always been the chance they would lose the trail or just flat get outrun. Vin was the best tracker Nathan had ever seen, but they had gone out most of a day behind and even Vin lost a trail once in a while in the canyon country. Some of those canyons out west of town had stone floors so hard a whole herd of horses could run through and not leave any sign to speak of.

“We’d have just been sittin’ around town if we didn’t go.” Chris put Nellie’s saddle and pack on the porch by the other one and then accepted his mug of water back from Vin, grinning up at Mrs. Calhoun. “Gettin’ ourselves into trouble, most likely.”

Mrs. Calhoun laughed softly. “I’ve heard about some of the scrapes you men get into. Danny’s full of stories he’s heard from his friends in town.” Her smile turned a bit impish as she added, “He’s even read that book about you several times.”

Chris groaned at that and Vin chuckled. “We do try to keep a hand in, ma’am,” Vin said, grinning as he moved over to look in the pack Chris had taken off of Nellie, “but Steele stretched the truth as much as not.”

Chris took a drink of his water, looking disgusted, and Nathan grinned as he remembered how much that little writer had annoyed Chris. There had been several times he thought Chris might shoot the man, or at least let someone else do it, but Chris had fought the urge admirably.

“Even so,” Mrs. Calhoun said, smiling, “you are seven rather remarkable gentlemen. We’re lucky to have you in Four Corners.”

“Just men,” Chris muttered, and Nathan had to laugh at the amused looks Vin and Mrs. Calhoun gave him.

“I’m gonna go put the horses in the barn,” Danny said suddenly, still beaming happily. “I gotta clean out the extra stall for my mare, so I might be a while.”

“Go on,” Mrs. Calhoun told him, smiling indulgently. “After you’re done, wash up for lunch. We can finish the planting this evening, when it’s cool.”

“Yes ma’am!” Danny hurried off towards the barn leading one of the mares with each hand, chirruping softly to them to get them to move faster.

Mrs. Calhoun just watched Danny go until he had led the mares into the barn. She turned her attention back to Chris and then Vin, who had found what he was after and was holding small leather sack. “If there’s anything I can ever do for either of you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Stay safe,” Chris replied quickly, “and send Danny to let us know if you need anything.” He grinned. “Nathan here’s not the only one who can push a plow, after all, and we usually have more free time than he does. Vin an’ I’d be glad to help out when you need anything done that Danny can’t handle.”

Nathan chuckled at that and Vin grinned as he offered the leather pouch to Mrs. Calhoun, adding, “And use this to make things easier for you and Danny.”

Nathan smiled at Vin and nodded to him, pleased they had brought back a little something to help Mrs. Calhoun and her boy through the long summer ahead, and Vin winked at him in reply.

Mrs. Calhoun blinked, surprised, and turned a bit awkwardly to set the tray she was still holding in the nearby chair before she turned back to Vin and took the pouch. She opened it to look inside, and then tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh. Oh my.” She took a moment to get control of herself and then looked at Vin again. “There must be over twenty dollars here.”

“Closer to forty,” Vin said, smiling at Mrs. Calhoun while Chris shot Vin a surprised look that made Nathan pretty sure that Vin had added some of his own money to it. It was just the kind of thing Vin would do; he had a real soft spot for widows. “That an’ what you get for the gear and the gelding in town ought to help out a bit. If you want, when you’re ready to sell him I’ll take him to a trader I know over to Eagle Bend. He’s a decent enough horse to make it worth the ride to take him to Ray, and he'll get you the best price for him. The gelding’s not near as nice as that paint, but he oughta bring fifteen dollars, easy. More if Ray knows someone looking for a flashy sorrel with four stockings. Folks who like the look will pay extra for it.”

Mrs. Calhoun closed her eyes for a moment again and then smiled at Vin, eyes shining with tears that didn’t quite fall. “Thank you, Mr. Tanner. You’ve taken a huge weight off of my shoulders. I had wondered how Danny and I would get by until the crops are harvested.”

“Wasn’t my doing, ma’am,” Vin said quickly, “or not mine alone anyway. Chris was right there by me, helpin’ me get shot at and ridin’ from sunup ‘til hours past dark. You could just as well thank our horses, we ran ‘em hard catchin’ those bastards.” He realized what he’d said, blushing and obviously embarrassed as he added hurriedly, “’Scuse my language, ma’am.”

Nathan had to work at it not to laugh at how sheepish Vin looked. Vin didn’t seem to even notice when he cussed around Nettie or Mrs. Potter, but evidently he considered Mrs. Calhoun to be a lady more of Mary’s stripe. Vin got tongue-tied around Mary sometimes, trying – often unsuccessfully – to keep from cussing around her, especially if Billy was with her. Nathan found that most amusing of all because he’d heard Vin cuss up a storm around Billy more than once without ever seeming to even notice he’d done it. Nathan sometimes thought Billy had learned half his cussing vocabulary from Chris and the rest from Vin, the way the boy idolized them.

“But don’t even think about offering any of that to us,” Chris added, smiling at Mrs. Calhoun. “We were just doin’ our jobs like Nathan here, and we get paid plenty by the town. You and your boy need that money a lot worse ’n we do.”

Mrs. Calhoun just stared at Chris and Vin a moment longer, clutching the leather pouch of coins, then smiled warmly. “Please tell me you’ll at least stay for lunch. There’s fresh bread, and the leg of lamb I put on the spit earlier should be done any time now.”

Chris didn’t even glance at Vin. “We’d be proud to join you, ma’am.”

Nathan grinned and stood. “Well then, I think I’ll head to the barn to give Danny a hand with the horses. That extra stall’s got a lot of odds and ends piled in it.”

Vin nodded, smiling at Mrs. Calhoun as he picked his mug back up and finished off the water, then he leaned to put the mug on the tray and grinned at Nathan as he jammed his hat back on. “I need to water Pony and Peso and turn them out, then I’ll come help. Sooner we’re done, the sooner we can eat. I’m starving.”

Chris grinned and nodded, explaining to Mrs. Calhoun, “We skipped breakfast, ma’am, unless you count coffee and some peppered-up jerky along the trail as a meal.”

Nathan glanced at Vin, grinning because he was sure the jerky was Vin’s fault, and Vin grinned back at him. Chris complained every time he stole Vin’s jerky that it was too spicy, but Nathan had caught on a long time ago to the fact that Chris kept right on stealing a piece when he got a chance anyway. He figured Chris liked it and just didn’t want to admit it for fear of what Vin might throw in the pot next time he made dinner. Vin usually had a waterproof packet of dried chilies tucked away somewhere in his gear and liked dropping the crumbled pods in his own bowl even though some of them were hot enough to make a man breathe fire, or at least feel like he was.

Mrs. Calhoun laughed. “It’s a good thing I made plenty to feed a few extra mouths, then.” She moved a bit awkwardly to move the tray from her chair down onto the porch, then sat down in her chair and smiled at Chris. “Now then, Mr. Larabee—“ She paused slightly and then corrected herself, “Chris, I mean. I’m sure you’ve a much better idea what I should do with all of that than I do.” She gestured vaguely towards the two saddles and packs Chris had put on her porch. “I’d greatly appreciate a little advice on what I should do with it. I’m afraid I should be far out of my depth otherwise.”

Chris smiled warmly. “I’d be glad to help any way I can, ma’am.” He moved to the packs to begin sorting through them with Mrs. Calhoun’s avid attention to every word he said, talking quietly as Nathan and Vin moved out of earshot with Peso and Pony in tow.

Nathan left Vin with the black geldings at the water trough a moment later and entered the barn, very pleased with how things had turned out for the Calhouns. He thought Chris and Vin had really outdone themselves this time, and figured they had plenty of cause to be so pleased with themselves.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Lorrie walked slowly out of the house and put her tea on the small table Vin had moved out of the barn for her, and then she sat in her chair with a sigh. She spent a moment easing her foot out carefully to straighten her sore knee to the most comfortable position for it, flinching slightly when she stretched it too far. She moved it back, flinching again at another twinge and then letting out a relieved sigh as the pain faded to a bearable level. She reached for her tea then and settled back to relax for a few minutes and watch Danny.

Nathan had already ridden out with Sandspur in tow to return the horse to the Rawlins family. Nathan was going on into town because Saturday was usually his busiest day when someone needed a healer, but Vin and Mr. Larabee had lingered after lunch. Mr. Larabee had been very sweet to her Danny, and seemed glad to give him a few pointers as her son rode his new paint mare around the yard. Vin was lounging on his own horse next to Mr. Larabee, one leg hooked around the saddle horn as he leaned his elbows on his knee. Vin had been speaking up occasionally to Danny or Mr. Larabee but mostly he was just smiling and watching quietly unless someone spoke to him while his black gelding dozed.

Before lunch Mr. Larabee had said he thought Lorrie might get as much as a hundred dollars for the gear and weapons they took from the outlaws, and that was if she didn’t sell two of the guns, the pretty paint mare, or the saddle that fit the paint best. With that kind of money Lorrie could start looking for a milk cow of their own instead of trading eggs for milk from the Rawlins family, add a few more hens to her flock of chickens, and still keep the paint for Danny. Mr. Larabee had told her to just let him or Vin know if she changed her mind and they would buy the paint, and that was enough to tip the scales completely.

She hadn’t really planned on Danny having his own horse, but she couldn’t bear to disappoint him and knew that even if his chores suffered the mare would stay. Danny was thrilled with the paint, who he had named Blue because of her blue eyes even though the mare was a chestnut the few places that she wasn’t white. The more Lorrie saw of Blue, the more she thought her poor Rory would have approved of her as Danny’s first horse. Blue was smart and tolerant of Danny and seemed to like him already, following him around like a big dog after Mr. Larabee suggested Danny feed her bits of bread as a treat to get her attention.

Saddling Blue without help had taken Danny a little while before he did it to Mr. Larabee’s satisfaction, but Lorrie was profoundly grateful that Vin and Mr. Larabee were taking time to be sure her boy knew how important it was to be safe when he rode. Lorrie never would have thought to have Danny practice most of what the two men had suggested, like jumping out of the saddle and leaving his mare before he ran back to her and mounted again, but they had insisted Danny do quite a few things to be sure he could whenever he needed to. Bridling and unbridling, catching Blue when she was in the pasture, hobbling her properly, mounting from both sides, the corral fence, and the back of the buckboard, and picking out the mare’s hooves were just a few things that Danny had done since they began.

Blue had passed every test like a trooper and Danny had obviously taken everything Vin and Mr. Larabee told him to heart, listening to the men as though they were the relaying the gospel directly from the Lord. Lorrie might have preferred they used a different incentive than telling Danny he had to take care of himself so he could keep an eye out for her, but she had no doubt that it had worked. She just hoped Danny would take the promised lesson with a rifle after church the next afternoon as seriously as he was taking the riding lesson. She understood and even agreed with the need for Danny to know how to protect himself and her in light of their recent experiences, but she didn’t have to like the idea of her boy holding a gun. It was bad enough that she would be forced to wear one to keep them safe when they were alone on the farm.

Lorrie couldn’t help having visions of Danny shooting off his own foot, but Vin had assured her that he would personally make sure Danny was completely safe with a rifle before he ever let him fire one. Vin thought he had just the right gun for Danny back at the jail, a Winchester carbine similar to Mr. Larabee’s rifle that a cowboy had left as payment when he couldn’t cover a fine, and he gave her his word that Danny would learn all there was to know about safety before he held a loaded weapon. Vin wouldn’t put the rifle scabbard back on Danny’s saddle for him until Danny only hit where he aimed at, and he promised that he would make sure Danny understood how serious carrying any gun was before he let Danny keep the carbine. He was also going to give Danny hunting lessons so Danny could begin supplementing their meat supply, but that would come later after Danny knew how to use the rifle well.

She was glad Vin would be the one to set down the law for Danny about guns, both because Nathan and Mr. Larabee had assured her he was the best man with a rifle in the territory and because she liked Vin’s easy manner. She felt more relaxed around Vin than she did around any man other than Nathan at the moment, much more so than she felt around Mr. Larabee. She supposed part of it might be Vin’s sweet temperament, or even his age, which she thought must be several years shy of her own twenty-seven, despite the laugh lines around his eyes. Mr. Larabee was older, and even though he had been nothing less than a gentleman she found herself avoiding getting too close to him.

She turned her gaze from Danny to where Mr. Larabee was sitting on his horse in the shade, laughing with Vin over something. Mr. Larabee was polite and friendly with a surprisingly ready smile that didn’t quite go with what she had read and heard of him, but the way he moved and watched _everything_ still made her wary. Even sitting there in the shade he looked ready to leap into action, and Lorrie knew his reputation well enough to know he was nothing less than deadly. Rumor in town said Mr. Larabee had killed over twenty men in duels and at least twice as many in other fights in just the last two years, and she had heard Mary Travis say once that there were likely a hundred more Mr. Larabee just couldn’t be bothered to remember killing.

Lorrie shivered and looked away as she suddenly recalled the outlaw called Lloyd, who had thrown her into the kitchen table and then stomped her knee because she tried to run. Lloyd had ridden in on the paint mare, and the fear the men riding with him had shown towards him when he got angry had made it obvious he was dangerous. He'd had that same readiness for action that Mr. Larabee had, and the same watchful eyes that didn’t seem to miss a thing. The man would have frightened her even if he hadn’t killed her Rory, and after seeing him shoot Rory down like a dog she had been terrified of him. He had followed her into the house when she ran to get the rifle, and then he and his friends had proven that she was very right to be scared.

She knew Mr. Larabee wouldn’t hurt her like the outlaws had done, but his easy smile and gentlemanly ways couldn’t quite cover the deadliness that was simply a part of who he was. She thought it might be something all gunfighters had, but then recalled that Vin and Nathan were gunmen too and had to discard that idea. Nathan reminded her of her father, solid and strong with some intangible trait that made her feel safe with him even after her recent bad experiences. After having Nathan sleeping in her barn for most of a week, she knew that he was a sweet, gentle man who just wanted to help her, which she thought was a large part of the reason he was such a good healer.

The two men who had hunted down the outlaws who shot her Rory weren’t much like Nathan, but she was still very sure they were both good men. Vin had been just as sweet as could be to her every time Lorrie had spoken with him, and she knew from her friends in town that ladies and children of any age were completely safe with him. Gloria Potter often talked about how much of a godsend Vin in particular was to her, helping her when she had to shift store inventory and bringing her fresh meat about once a week. Vin always used the excuse that the meat would just waste if Gloria wouldn’t accept it, and Gloria had found it hard to turn him down.

Gloria had told her not long ago that Vin had brought her everything from tiny quail right on up to half a deer, depending on what he found when he went hunting, and he always refused to accept more than a slice of pie or a pastry in return. After seeing the way Vin lingered over the simple pie she had offered to her guests after lunch, Lorrie had no doubt that Vin felt his arrangement with Gloria was a fair trade. She had seldom seen anyone who so obviously relished every morsel of a dessert as Vin had, and it hadn’t even been one of her better pies.

Mr. Larabee really seemed very little like Vin to her, despite their obviously close friendship and the rumors she had heard about their habit of knowing what the other was thinking. Thinking about it, she realized suddenly that the difference came down to their demeanor, not any hard facts or anything either had said or done. Mr. Larabee reminded her of one of her father’s wolfhounds, strong and confident with that edge that instinct told her could turn menacing in a heartbeat, but Vin reminded her more of a deer, nearly silent when he moved and more graceful than Mr. Larabee with gentle eyes and a sweet smile. She knew it was likely all in her head, but still she couldn’t ignore it despite how grateful she was for all that Mr. Larabee had done for her.

Movement caught her eye and she looked up to watch as Mr. Larabee dismounted his gelding near where Danny was unsaddling Blue. After a moment she realized he was showing Danny a better way to secure the tie down strap when he wasn’t using it, and she marveled again at how thorough Mr. Larabee was and how intently Danny watched him. Danny had loved horses since he could walk and always liked to play with them, but he had seldom been so serious about it for more than a few minutes. Rory hadn’t grown up around horses and hadn’t known anything about them beyond the basics, which had led to Danny not paying much attention on the rare occasion he tried to teach Danny something he did know. At nine, Danny knew more than Rory did about some horse-related topics, so his father's opinions didn't carry the weight they should have.

Vin turned his horse to ride over to the porch, smiling warmly at her and tipping his hat when he stopped a few feet away. “We’re just about ready to go, ma’am. Danny’s going to do fine with Blue, you don’t have anything to worry about if you want to let him ride her to the Rawlins farm or even send him into town for somethin’. We’d all be glad to look out for him when he’s in town alone, if you like. There’s almost always at least one of us at the jail or Ezra’s saloon, and Danny can handle the ride no problem. We covered some rough country with Blue the last few days and she’s solid as a rock, doesn’t spook at anything I’ve seen.”

“Thank you, Vin,” Lorrie said, pushing away her thoughts to return Vin’s smile. “I wish I knew how I could repay you and your friends for all you’ve done for us. I feel like we owe you all so much, but especially you and Mr. Larabee. You risked your lives for us.”

“If you feel like you just have to do somethin’, ma’am, you can bake us another of them wonderful peach pies sometime. We’ll feel downright spoiled, I promise.” Vin grinned and added teasingly, “Just don’t pass it over t’ Buck first. Peach pie’s his favorite, an’ he won’t likely share.”

Lorrie laughed softly, feeling her cheeks heat up. “It was just a little pastry with canned peaches, Vin. Anyone could make it.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that, ma’am,” Vin disagreed, chuckling softly. “Ezra _says_ he can cook, but he’s so good at dodgin’ the chore I couldn’t swear one way or the other. Me, I’m pretty much useless at cookery unless y’ want meat, beans, fried eggs, or a stew. The others ain’t any better, except for maybe Chris. He makes the best chicken an’ dumplings I ever had, but that’s about it ‘sides the easy stuff we can all manage.” His grin widened. “He’s been tryin’ to get the hang of bakin’, but it hasn’t turned out too good so far. He made biscuits so tough the horses couldn’t hardly eat ‘em last time.”

Lorrie shook her head, bemused. “I can’t imagine living on a diet so limited. I don’t know how you men stand it.”

“We don’t, we just eat while we’re in town,” Vin said, grinning. “Desserts are scarce most days, but the rest of the food makes up for it an’ we usually have to be in town anyway. Biscuits an’ bread keep a few days, so we don’t have to do without ‘em just ‘cause we can’t seem to get the hang of makin’ ‘em.”

Lorrie smiled a bit wider. “Well then, when Danny and I come into town tomorrow for church I’ll be sure to bring along something sweet. It’ll be a pleasure to do something nice for you.”

Vin’s grin widened. “Better not make a habit of that, ma’am, or you’ll have us showin’ up all the time, hopin’ for a snack.”

Lorrie laughed. “Consider yourself and your friends invited to do just that, we welcome the company. I usually have something in the pantry I can whip up without too much trouble. Desserts made from canned fruit and preserves are just about the only way we have anything sweet out here, and they don’t take long to make.”

Vin laughed and teased, “You gone and done it now, ma’am.”

Mr. Larabee rode up then, grinning at Lorrie and then at Vin. “Done what?”

Vin smirked at Mr. Larabee. “Invited us to stop by for somethin’ sweet whenever we’re out this way.”

Mr. Larabee’s eyebrows went up and looked back at Lorrie, obviously trying not to laugh. “Vin’s right. You definitely made a mistake, ma’am.”

“I don’t think so, Mr. Larabee,” Lorrie protested with a soft laugh, then corrected herself, “Chris, I mean. I’d welcome the company, and I’m sure Danny will too.”

Mr. Larabee chuckled. “Oh, you’ll have company alright. Let Buck find out about your pies an’ you’ll have a six-foot-four cowboy that thinks he’s God’s gift to women out here beggin’ every day.”

Vin laughed. “Even Buck’s not _that_ bad cadging sweets.”

Mr. Larabee grinned at Vin. “You remember that pie, Vin? Buck’s _gonna_ be that bad.”

Vin seemed to think about it a moment and then laughed again and nodded. “Alright, maybe so.”

Lorrie smiled as she said staunchly, “Buck is welcome to come by, and his friend JD as well. I won’t mind feeding them, and Danny will enjoy having someone to play with.”

Mr. Larabee and Vin both laughed, and after a moment Lorrie joined in as she realized how that had sounded. Buck hadn’t struck her as being as young at heart as JD obviously was, but the big man had seemed to enjoy spending time with JD and Danny each time he had visited so far. They had played some game with a pocketknife that Buck and his friend JD had argued cheerfully over even as they were teaching Danny to play. She had been quite grateful to them both, despite the fact a knife was involved in the game.

Buck and JD were responsible for the first time Danny had laughed after his father was murdered, so Lorrie had a bit of a soft spot for them both.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Part 9

 

 

Ezra smirked slightly as he counted the coins stacked in front of him, putting them into neat piles. He’d have to go by the bank on Monday and exchange them for greenbacks to lighten his pockets, but until then he would be jingling when he walked. It was one of his favorite sounds, though, so it would be no hardship to tolerate it until then.

A mug of beer thumped onto the table next to him and Ezra looked up, smirk widening into a pleased smile when he saw Vin tug out the chair next to him. Chris took the chair at Vin’s other side, across the table from Ezra.

“Well now, the prodigals do return,” Ezra said cheerfully. “You gentlemen look rather proud of yourselves. I gather you did well by the widow Calhoun?”

“You gather right,” Vin said with an easy smile, settling into the chair in his usual sprawl. “Brought back her horse an’ two others, plus their gear.”

Chris smiled slightly and nodded. “Danny’s tickled with his new mare, and Lorrie’s got around forty dollars to tide them over until they get the other horse and all the gear sold off.” Chris glanced at Vin as he mentioned the money, and Vin looked smug enough that Ezra had no doubt he had added to the money the outlaws had when they died. Vin was usually on the edge of broke because he spent his money on other people, but he seemed to like it that way. If he truly needed money he knew Ezra would gladly give it to him, as long as he asked privately. He did have appearances to maintain, after all, but for Vin he was always willing to part with a little cash. Vin always had a good reason, after all, and it wasn’t as if it were hard for Ezra to make money. If his pockets grew too light he could always go back to cheating at cards.

Ezra chuckled, looking from Vin to Chris and back again. “No trouble, I trust?”

“Not much,” Vin agreed, still smiling and looking smug as he reached for his beer to take a drink.

“They shot at us some,” Chris added, “but they couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn from the inside.” He snorted and shook his head. “It must’ve been pure bad luck, them killing Calhoun.”

“It happens on occasion,” Ezra agreed, bemused. “We already knew they were not the brightest of men. They did, after all, cause trouble in the one town in the territory where _seven_ lawmen are in residence.”

Chris snickered and nodded, taking a drink of his own beer before he settled back in his chair, getting comfortable. “You’d think even the stupid outlaws would know to ride another way by now.” He glanced at Vin, smiling just a bit differently than he had at Ezra. “We been ridin’ herd on this place what, two and a half years now?”

“More like three,” Vin agreed, smiling back at Chris with a look in his eyes Ezra had never seen Vin direct at anything but a fine horse or a particularly nice meal after a long day. “Seems like yesterday sometimes, though.”

Ezra’s eyebrows rose before he could hide his surprise at the answering warmth and desire that was suddenly plain in Chris’ eyes. _That_ was new. He glanced covertly around the saloon, which was doing steady business even though there was more than an hour yet until sundown, then back at Chris and Vin. Chris was sipping his beer and watching Ezra again, and Vin had looked off towards the door to watch three men who were walking in, already loud enough it was obvious they’d started their drinking on the trail.

“A most eventful three years,” Ezra said finally, keeping his expression amused and relaxed even though he had no doubt of what he’d seen, or that Chris and Vin had both noticed him react. Chris looked understandably wary given the look Ezra had so obviously noticed passing between Chris and Vin, but Vin was still smiling and relaxed. That seemingly insignificant sign of Vin’s confidence in him lifted Ezra’s spirits, though he would never have admitted it to anyone. Vin’s opinion of him was important to Ezra, as much because he knew Vin didn’t trust easy as because of his own affection for Vin. “Perhaps soon I will finally convince my dear mother to sell her share of my saloon.”

“Again,” Vin added, grinning at Ezra. “She’s conned you out of it what, twice now?”

“Three times,” Ezra corrected dryly, summoning up the appropriate scowl even though he was finally beginning to see the humor in the repeated situation. “Most recently by buying out Inez’ share in this fine establishment. I still own controlling interest, thank heavens, but Mother is determined to annoy.”

Chris chuckled softly and Ezra almost smiled at the proof Chris was already relaxing again. He knew it was difficult for Chris to trust him sometimes, and felt that the wariness was no less than he deserved. He had known from the day they met that Chris was most definitely the sort of man that didn’t give many second chances, and Ezra knew he had seriously strained Chris’ limited ability to forgive with his early reluctance to do something so simple as keep his word. Every sign that Chris was finally starting to trust him reinforced Ezra’s determination never to let the man down again.

“That still doesn’t make sense to me,” Chris said, amused. “Why did Inez sell? She seems to like it here well enough.”

“There was a clause in the contract my _dear_ Mother gave her,” Ezra replied sourly, “stating that Inez will retain her share of the profits and her rooms as long as she works here. As such Inez reaps all the profits of a business partner, and no longer shoulders any of the risks that come with owning a saloon so _popular_ with the rougher element. Mother, of course, worded the contract in such a way that _she_ is no longer liable for those bills either.”

“Don’t hardly sound legal,” Vin said, grinning.

“That would be because it’s not,” Ezra agreed. “It would never hold up in court, but I hesitate to give Mother the opportunity to charm a judge out of my share of the saloon as well. She is quite adept at the poor widow act that would be necessary to sway opinion in her favor, and as it stands I _do_ at least retain a controlling interest.”

Vin and Chris both snickered and then Vin teased, “So you’re payin’ all the bills and Inez is still takin’ a third your profits off the top.”

“Mmm,” Ezra agreed, scowling. There was simply no possibility he would refuse to honor the deal his mother made with Inez. If he did, Inez would have nothing. As long as Ezra honored the admittedly bogus contract, Inez would at least be able to support herself in the style to which she had become accustomed. If Ezra’s previously profitable two-thirds share in the saloon was now barely breaking even, well, he could make enough at the gambling tables to support himself quite well. “When next I see Mother, I plan to wring her admittedly graceful neck myself.”

A familiar work-roughened hand patted Ezra on the shoulder and then Josiah dropped into the other chair at the table, holding an empty glass in one hand near his belly. He nodded a hello to Chris and Vin before he looked at Ezra, blue eyes twinkling. “You don’t really want to be doing that, Ezra. You must honor thy father _and_ thy mother.”

Ezra snorted and went back to counting coins, stacking them neatly. “My mother _has_ no honor, Josiah. I bear little affection for her, I can assure you. And as to the identity of my father, your guess is likely to be as well informed as any of my own. Mother’s answer when I asked as a child was seldom the same twice running.”

Ezra knew he wasn’t quite being fair on the issue of his parentage, but he refused to let it show. His mother could at least narrow it down to three most likely suspects, which was truly more than Ezra would expect considering how free she was with her affections when she deemed it necessary. She would do anything that she had to do to support herself in the fashion to which she was accustomed, and sometimes that had involved doing things no respectable woman would admit to.

He also wasn’t completely honest about his feelings for the deplorable old reprobate who was his mother, but he had learned to lie on that subject as a boy and felt he was too old to change now. Ezra couldn’t help but feel a grudging admiration for his mother, but he kept it buried deep down and blamed that abiding affection for her on stupidity he must have gained from his father. He was rather sure his mother didn’t have a similar problem, no matter how much she liked to protest that she only made his life difficult because she adored him.

His mother truly was the most trying woman he had ever met, and that was saying something. To buy Inez’ one-third share in _his_ saloon and give away the profits that share earned made it very obvious to him that she was just attempting to make his life difficult. The case of superbly aged Kentucky bourbon his mother had sent him ‘for his birthday’ might have mollified him a bit, had it not contained a card that gave the wrong month and year for his birth. It most definitely did not make up for anything – not with the written proof she had forgotten his birthdate completely – but it _had_ made her meddling easier to tolerate. One could laugh at almost anything after a few shots of that fine bourbon.

Josiah chuckled softly. “She is still your mother.”

“Unfortunately,” Ezra agreed. He put the last silver dollar on a pile of similar coins and glanced back up at Josiah, and then he finally noticed Josiah’s glass was empty. “Where _are_ my manners?” he asked, reaching for the whiskey bottle in the middle of the table. “Would you care for a drink?”

Josiah offered his glass with a smile. “Never let it be said I refused to drink with a friend.”

Ezra filled Josiah’s glass and then his own, smirking. “I shall endeavor to remember not to do so.” He offered the whiskey towards Chris.

“No thanks,” Chris refused with a shake of his head and a smile. “Beer’s fine for me.”

Ezra’s eyebrows rose and he looked at Vin, who just looked amused and shook his head. Ezra let out a little surprised laugh and put down the whiskey bottle where Josiah could reach it. “I can’t say that I expected that answer from either of you, especially you, Mr. Larabee, but far be it from me to force whiskey on two of my favorite customers.”

Chris grinned at Ezra. “It’s not your whiskey, Ezra. Someone threatened to shoot me next time I get drunk. I kind of like my hide without any extra holes in it.”

Josiah laughed. “Buck?”

Chris snickered and shook his head. “Nope, him.” He nodded towards Vin, giving him a smile that was both amused and tolerant, and then took a slow drink of his beer.

Vin smirked at Josiah and Ezra. “He took a shot at me last time, an’ fair’s fair. Next time it’s my turn.”

Chris choked on his beer, laughing and red-faced as he shot a glance at Vin that clearly gave away to Ezra that Chris couldn’t quite believe Vin had said that.

Josiah laughed and pounded Chris’ back as he said dryly, “Shooting at your friends is a very good sign you should practice abstinence, my friend.”

Ezra just smirked and stared at Vin, wishing he had a decent excuse to speak to Vin alone for a moment.

Of course, they might all be better off if he didn’t. If Vin tried telling him it was his imagination that Vin had put a double meaning into that last statement, he might have to do something drastic like call him a liar. Doing such a thing just could not end well.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Vin sopped up the steak juice on his plate with the last of his biscuit, popping it into his mouth as he watched Ezra attempt again to talk Josiah into a game of poker. Ezra had been trying through most of the meal, and he’d had about as much luck as Vin expected him to, which was to say none. Josiah had played cards with Ezra too many times to fall for Ezra’s smooth talk when Ezra had that wild gleam in his clear green eyes. The luck was with Ezra tonight and he’d go up to his room a richer man, there was no doubt about that. Vin was pretty sure Ezra wouldn’t even bother to cheat. He’d never met a man so blessed as Ezra was when Lady Luck was riding him, and just then Vin figured she was putting the spurs to Ezra in the worst way.

“Come now, surely you can’t be saying you wouldn’t enjoy a relaxing game of poker?” Ezra prodded with a slight smirk.

Josiah snorted, smiling. “Not with you, Ezra. No offense, but I’d like to be able to afford to eat tomorrow.”

Chris snickered, finishing his steak as he watched Ezra and Josiah talking. He’d gotten quiet as the evening wore on, but it didn’t worry Vin. Chris was too obviously happy and relaxed for it to be a bad sign, even if Vin hadn’t caught Chris giving him a look a few times that was plenty to tell him what was on Chris’ mind. Vin was sure Ezra had spotted it just as easy as he did, too. He’d caught Ezra watching Chris with a little smirk, but Ezra hadn’t commented even though he had done more than his share to keep the conversation going when Chris got too distracted to pay attention.

Ezra put a hand to his heart and gasped theatrically. “How you _wound_ me! To think that even my own dear friends hold so low an opinion of me—“

Josiah laughed and interrupted, “Just the opposite, my friend. I have a very high opinion of you, especially your ability at gambling. I’d just rather you didn’t prove that by clearing out my pockets. Maybe another time.”

Ezra laughed softly and seemed to relax. “It was worth an attempt. You are quite amusing company at the poker table, Josiah.”

Josiah grinned and leaned a bit closer to Ezra, teasing, “And other times too, Ezra.”

Josiah winked at Ezra then, and Vin had to stifle a laugh at the surprised look in Ezra’s eyes, even though Ezra’s smile didn’t change a bit.

Josiah stood, nodding to Chris and Vin with a smile, his blue eyes twinkling. “And on that note, I’m headed for my bunk. Mornin’ comes early tomorrow.”

“Night, preacher,” Vin said, smiling as he reached for his beer to take a drink. It was his third of the night, but he’d barely started it and doubted he would finish. It was getting dark out and he was looking forward to getting back to Chris’ place before too much longer. Yosemite had agreed to send the stable boy out to deliver feed when Vin spoke to him that morning, and they had stopped at the general store to buy a few staples before they put their horses in the livery, so there wasn’t anything left they had to do before they could ride out.

Chris smiled at Josiah and nodded to him. “See you after church.”

Ezra looked bemused as he poured himself another shot of whiskey. “Do sleep well, Josiah.”

Josiah grinned and reached out to rest his hand on Ezra’s shoulder for a moment. “Like a babe safe in his mother’s arms, Ezra. Good night, friends.” He gave Ezra’s shoulder a squeeze and then nodded to Chris and Vin and started for the door.

Vin watched Ezra knock back the shot and then teased softly, “Haven’t you had about enough of that for one night, Ez? I lost count after six.”

“Nine,” Ezra said with a smile. “But I am quite lucid as yet, I assure you.”

Vin chuckled. “I’ve seen you down more than a bottle an’ still able to talk rings ‘round me, but that don’t mean you can still walk.”

Ezra’s smile twitched into a sudden grin. “One of the perks of owning such an establishment is that I never have to leave.”

Chris smirked. “Sleepin’ here in the saloon, Ezra? I’d have thought you’d crawl to bed before you did that.”

Vin snickered as Ezra protested, “A Standish does not crawl, Mr. Larabee!” He sniffed and looked affronted, but Vin could tell Ezra was just putting on an act. His green eyes were still sparkling with amusement and good humor.

“Like the place too much to leave it, huh?” Chris teased, reaching for his beer as he settled back in his chair.

Ezra’s lips twitched. “Well, perhaps not, but the company is rather good at the moment.”

Vin grinned. “Your company’s fixin’ to ride out, though.”

Ezra smirked and got a bit of a wicked glint in his eyes. “One day you simply must show me that loft you prize so highly, Mr. Tanner. I simply cannot imagine a good reason to _choose_ to sleep on a pile of hay.”

Vin snickered, sure that Ezra was digging for a lot more than why Chris’ loft was one of his favorite places to sleep, but he wasn’t about to come clean that easy, not in a crowded saloon. “It ain’t about the hay, it’s the view. Watchin’ horses graze an’ seein’ the stars is a lot more to my taste than lookin’ out at a bunch of buildings. Chris has a mighty fine little ranch.”

“He must, as much time as you spend there,” Ezra teased softly, amused. “I would greatly enjoy discussing this in further depth with you, but I shall wait for a quieter location.”

Vin grinned and stood, digging in his pocket for a couple of coins to drop them by his plate for the waitress. Ezra didn’t charge them for their meals, or their drinks either for that matter, but they all made a point to tip the girls who worked for him. The largest part of their income came from tips, after all, and all of them had children to support except Inez. “I got a horse to saddle in the livery if you want to talk, Ez. Plenty quiet there.”

Ezra’s eyes widened slightly and he looked at Vin for a moment, then suddenly shifted his gaze over to Chris. He raised one eyebrow in silent question, and Vin nearly laughed at how obviously Ezra was asking for Chris’ permission.

Chris smirked slightly as he stood. “Don’t look at me. I’m not your keeper.”

Ezra blinked and then stood as well, smiling and rock steady despite all the whiskey he’d had. “Well then, I believe I shall accept that invitation, Mr. Tanner. Fresh air is just the thing to clear my head before I find a lively game of chance for the evening.”

“Well, come on, then.” Vin turned to head for the door with Chris moving to follow him. He glanced at the mirror and hid a grin when he saw Ezra’s expression as he followed them out.

Ezra might have been offered the rest of the deed to his saloon, he looked so pleased.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Chris nodded to Yosemite, who was leaving just as they arrived, and then followed Vin into the livery and headed for Pony’s stall. Pony’s saddle and bridle were draped over the top rail of the rear stall as they usually were, and Chris opened the gate to go in with his gelding, leaving the stall open as he glanced over at Vin.

Vin had just opened Peso’s stall across the aisle and looked happy and relaxed as he went in, patting Peso’s hip as he closed the stall door behind him. He spoke softly to Peso and the rangy black gelding turned to face Vin, ears up as he waited for Vin to reach for his head. Peso wasn’t at all affectionate and didn’t nuzzle his rider when Vin touched him, but he did stand calmly for it, which was more than he would do for anyone else unless he was already tied or Chris had a bribe for him.

Vin smiled as he stroked Peso’s face and murmured something that made Peso’s ears flick back and forth, then Vin moved to get Peso’s saddle. Vin seldom bridled Peso before he saddled him, and Chris had learned why after a failed attempt of his own that got him kicked. Vin had laughed when he found out about it, and told Chris that Peso would stand to be cinched up only if he was free to choose if he would accept the saddle. Any hint of restraint smacked too much of trying to force him to suit Peso, and he’d fight just because he could.

Ezra closed the main door and walked down the aisle to lean against the front of Peso’s stall, smirking slightly as he watched Vin begin to saddle up. Chris eavesdropped shamelessly as he bridled Pony, figuring it was his business since he expected they would be talking about him. Ezra had made it pretty plain he noticed something was different and that he wanted to know the particulars, and Vin seemed inclined to indulge him. Chris knew Vin was much closer to Ezra than he was to their other friends, so he was going to follow Vin’s lead on this one. He trusted Ezra and was pretty sure he wouldn’t cause them trouble if he could avoid it, despite Ezra’s unpredictability in some other areas. Chris figured in this particular instance Ezra was a lot less likely to be a problem than Buck was. Sometimes Buck’s big mouth outran his brain, but Ezra seldom said a word he hadn’t thought over carefully.

“Now then,” Ezra said quietly enough Chris could barely hear him, “we are quite alone, Vin. _Do_ share what is so very attractive about that barn.”

Chris hid a grin at Ezra’s tone of voice. Ezra’s insatiable curiosity was something Vin often used against him, and Chris knew this time was no exception. Ezra sounded amused and just a bit frustrated, and Chris was sure that not knowing what Vin had been up to was killing him.

Vin glanced at Ezra, grinning as he settled his center-fire buckaroo saddle on Peso’s back. “Why do you ask, Ezra? Thinking of takin’ up sleepin’ there?”

Chris adjusted the bit in Pony’s mouth and settled the crown strap behind the gelding’s ears, watching them out of the corner of his eye as Ezra snorted and said dryly, “I assure you, such a thought had not crossed my mind.”

Vin bent to reach under Peso’s belly for the cinch and then stood up again to start feeding the tie strap through, giving Ezra a slight smirk. “Well then, what are you diggin’ for?”

“Answers,” Ezra said firmly, amused. He glanced at Chris, catching Chris’ eye for a moment, and then looked back at Vin and murmured quiet enough Chris had to strain to make it out, “Most especially answers as to what happened this week to change the ... _relationship_ between yourself and Chris.”

Vin looked at Ezra, still smirking slightly and not really making an effort to keep Chris from hearing, even though Chris was sure no one much farther away could hear him. “You really think it’s any of your business, Ez?”

Ezra smirked. “I simply would prefer to be clear on certain things for future reference, Vin. Many do bring their rumors to me, as you know, and I always prefer to be able to pick the ones with the truth from the lies.”

Vin looked at Ezra a moment longer and then his smirk widened into a grin. “Talk to Chris, then. It’s as much his to tell as mine.” He turned his back on Ezra to finish tightening Peso’s cinch, effectively ending the conversation.

Chris snickered and moved to get Pony’s saddle, but he didn’t even pretend not to notice when Ezra spun to look at him.

Ezra stared at Chris a moment and then muttered, “Very well.” He stalked across the barn and walked right up into the stall with Chris and Pony, staying several feet away while Chris swung the saddle up on Pony’s back and then moving a step closer. “I am fairly sure what I saw, but I would rather be certain, as I am sure you can understand.”

Chris smirked slightly at Ezra, making a bit more effort to be quiet than Vin had as he said softly, “You’re a smart man, Ezra. Curious as a cat, but smart.” He ducked to reach under Pony for the cinch and then slid the tie strap through the cinch ring before he glanced at Ezra again. “Smart enough, I reckon, to notice things folks might not want to share in public and get the why of it.”

Ezra made a show of looking around the barn, which had horses in all eight stalls, and Chris glanced around as well. On the side of the barn where Peso was always stalled, Chaucer was leaning out of the stall next to Peso, watching his rider interestedly. Dancer was on Chaucer’s other side, and the Calhoun gelding was in the stall between Dancer and the doors. To the right of the main doors, Pony was in the rear stall, Misty was in the stall next to Pony, and two of Yosemite’s rental horses were in the final two stalls, a matched team of bay mares that Chris often rented. Josiah and Nathan kept their horses elsewhere because Foxy caused too much trouble in the livery fighting with whatever horse she was stalled by, and Seeker didn’t hold weight when he was kept cooped up in a stall.

Ezra turned back towards Chris, feigning surprise. “Yes, of _course_ , Mr. Larabee, how _could_ I forget? Horses are such _terrible_ gossips.”

Vin laughed and Chris glanced over to see Vin was already settling Peso’s new one-ear bridle around the gelding’s right ear. The old bridle had been a casualty several months ago when JD tied Peso one day and Peso sat back on the reins, snapping the leather right at the cheek buckle. Vin had ridden the gelding with no bridle at all for three days until he had a chance to sit down with one of the hides he kept for saddle repair and make a bridle especially to fit Peso. It was twice as thick as a normal bridle, all one piece of leather with ties by the bit and no throatlatch at all. If Peso sat back again, one of the thongs was sure to snap instead of breaking the bridle itself, and Vin could always easily replace a thong.

Vin grinned at Chris and teased, “You know he won’t stop diggin’ until he gets the answer he’s huntin’, Chris. Might as well get it over with now as later.”

Chris snorted, amused, and then looked back at Ezra. He met Ezra’s gaze a moment and then stepped away from Pony to get right up close and personal with Ezra, his smirk going just a bit wicked at the way Ezra’s eyes widened. He leaned even closer and murmured near Ezra’s ear, “Vin doesn’t sleep in the barn anymore, Ezra. He’s sleepin’ in my bed, right where he should have been all along, but I’ll thank you to keep that to yourself.”

Ezra was so wide-eyed that Chris turned away and gave him a moment, tugging Pony’s cinch tight and tying it off as he tried not to laugh. He was completely certain it wasn’t the news that Vin was sleeping in his bed that had so shocked Ezra. He’d never even considered using a little flirting to shut Ezra up, but damned if it hadn’t worked like a charm. He’d have to remember that. He had never really looked at Ezra that way, but evidently that didn’t go both ways.

“Damn,” Ezra murmured after a couple of minutes. Chris looked over his shoulder to see Ezra with a smirk on his face that seemed equal parts surprised and pleased, but it quickly turned wicked when Chris met his gaze. “I never would have thought you had it in you, Chris.”

“That’s ‘cause he hasn’t,” Vin said quietly, grinning as he stopped at the door of Pony’s stall with Peso. “But I reckon I can get him to try anything once if I get him drunk enough. Might have to talk you outta two bottles of that good Kentucky bourbon first, though.”

Ezra laughed, surprised again but still looking wicked as he nodded to Vin. “It’s yours.”

Chris snorted and started out of the stall with Pony, waiting until he got close to Vin to mutter with a smile, “Dream on, Tanner.”

Vin grinned at Chris and murmured, “I can be real persuasive when I need to be.” He headed out of the livery with Peso as he added cheerfully in a more normal tone of voice, “Night, Ezra. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That doesn’t seem to leave out much,” Ezra said quietly to Chris, smirking.

“It surely doesn’t,” Chris agreed with a sudden wicked grin that vanished almost as fast as it had appeared. He followed Vin and Peso with his own horse as he added cheerfully, “See you tomorrow, Ez.”

“Before noon, if you want breakfast at the saloon,” Ezra said, amused as he followed them out to the street. “Colette has plans to attend the potluck after church and will be too busy afterwards to cook.”

Vin swung up into Peso’s saddle and grinned down at Ezra. “Hell, we’ll likely be up before dawn. Ride into town doesn’t take long when we don’t have a lame horse slowing us down.”

Chris snickered and mounted Pony. “Speak for yourself, Vin.” He looked at Ezra, grinning. “Don’t bother looking for us before ten. After a week of ridin’ all day and sleepin’ on rocks, I wanna sleep in on my day off.” He winked and heeled Pony into a fast canter, glad there were very few people still out in the street that time of the evening.

Vin laughed as he gave Peso his head and the black mustang galloped to catch up, slowing to canter at Pony’s side without Vin even needing to pull on the reins.

When Chris glanced back at the far end of the street, Ezra was on the boardwalk in front of the saloon, watching them go as he lit one of his rare cigars. Ezra would only smoke the best and seldom had access to cigars that were high quality enough to suit him, but there had been a box of his favorites in the whiskey order he’d just gotten. Chris had two tucked into his shirt pocket that Ezra had passed over when Chris had asked Ezra to order a box for him next time.

Chris looked over at Vin as they turned off the main street onto the trail that headed generally towards his place, amused. “He was entirely too cheerful tonight.”

Vin grinned at Chris. “I’d imagine there’s several folks thinkin’ the same thing about you. I never saw you so cheerful as you’ve been today.”

Chris smirked. “I have good reason. That still doesn’t explain Ezra.”

“I guess you never noticed that Ezra always winds up sleepin’ alone, even though there’s usually a lady that’d be more than willin’ to keep him company,” Vin said, amused.

“Well yeah, but so do you.” Chris grinned. “Or you did.”

Vin returned the grin. “Now you’re on the right trail, cowboy.”

Chris thought about that just a moment before his eyebrows rose and he laughed slightly. “You mean he…?”

“Ez an’ me are a lot alike,” Vin said dryly, “despite not havin’ much at all in common. I figure that’s why we get on so well as we do. Not many folks that a man who’s got a hankerin’ for other men can trust with knowin’ that kind of thing, but he picked up on my taste in bed partners a long time ago. I reckon he stopped tryin’ so hard to hide his ‘cause he knew I wouldn’t be spreadin’ it around. Ez can trust me an’ he knows it just as well as I know he’ll do his damnedest to keep us out of the rumor mill.”

Chris looked at the trail as he thought about it and then nodded, bemused. “I can see how that’d be.” He hadn’t ever thought about how life might be for a man who preferred other men, but it only took a moment to realize that people a man could trust with knowing that about him would be in short supply. The fact that Vin hadn’t hesitated to tell him Ezra’s secret said a lot about how completely Vin trusted him, but he knew Ezra would have expected it. If anyone knew how little Vin kept from Chris, it would be Ezra. He looked back at Vin, smiling and curious. “So he’s just happy for you?”

“That’s part of it, but I’m thinkin’ he’s also pretty glad you don’t mind he’s got particular tastes in men, just like everythin’ else. He’s always been powerful concerned with what you think of him. You mean a hell of a lot more to him than he'd ever admit to you.” Vin threw his hands forward before Chris could even process that, and Peso bolted up the road, nose and tail in the air.

Chris laughed, surprised as much by Vin’s words as his actions, and urged Pony after them. He was definitely going to have to have another talk with Vin about Ezra and his preferences, but it could wait.

He already had plans for the rest of the night.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10

 

Vin’s eyes remained closed as he shifted slightly and then stilled, sprawled comfortably in Chris’ bed and relaxing with a low hum. He was feeling that kind of pleasant exhausted that only came from getting laid _really_ well, and he figured he had earned every bit of it and then some. He almost snickered at that thought but didn’t bother opening his eyes or even moving as he debated getting up to go get the quilt Chris had thrown in the floor, sure that he’d want it before long. The fire in the stove had gone down to coals even before they made it into bed, and it was cooling off rapidly in the cabin.

Vin felt a brush of fingertips against his forehead and then Chris’ fingers slid into his hair. Vin opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Chris with a smile. “Hmm?”

Chris was propped up on one elbow, his expression gentle as he looked into Vin’s eyes, slowly running his fingers through Vin’s tangled hair. The lamp on the table in the next room was still lit, more because they hadn’t bothered to put it out than because they particularly needed it, and in the soft light that came through the open door Chris’ eyes sparkled green, even though they were usually closer to grey. Of course, Vin hadn’t had any other occasions to see them by lamplight in that particular situation, so he couldn’t really say what was normal for it. For all he knew they might always shift to the dark green of pin oak leaves in late summer when Chris had just gotten laid for the second time in as many hours.

“You look pleased with yourself,” Chris murmured after a moment, lips curving into a smile.

Vin smiled wider and rolled towards Chris, his hands settling against Chris’ chest. “Got reason to. I’m feelin’ pretty good.”

Chris gently loosened a tangle that had gotten wrapped around one of his fingers as he teased softly, “You are, hmm? I must be learnin’ pretty fast, then.”

Vin grinned and leaned closer as he purred, “What you don’t know, we can do without.” He kissed Chris then, soft and lingering without really asking for more until Chris’ fingers tightened in his hair.

Vin smiled into the kiss and let Chris take control as his hands slid slowly over Chris’ chest, and it didn’t surprise him at all when Chris pushed him to his back to lean over him as Chris deepened the kiss. Chris didn’t have a submissive bone in his body and automatically assumed control of just about everything they did together, but Vin knew it wasn’t so much about taking what he wanted as taking care of _who_ he wanted. Chris seemed to get as much enjoyment from giving pleasure as he did from actual sex, and kept surprising Vin with his willingness to adapt to being with another man and still give at least as much as he got. He had plenty of knowledge to fall back on of things women had done to him that he enjoyed, and he wasn’t at all shy about trying them on Vin just to see what his reaction would be.

Vin had needled Chris a few times about wanting to be the one doing the fucking sooner or later, but he did it more to tease Chris about his hang-ups over the idea than because he really wanted more than Chris was freely giving him. It didn’t bother him that Chris just wasn’t comfortable with giving up as much control as he would have to if he were to let Vin fuck him. The kind of man Vin was drawn to usually hadn’t been the type to like being fucked, or admit to it at least, so it worked out well that Vin’s preferences ran just the opposite.

Chris ended the kiss after several minutes, smirking down at Vin and breathing just a bit fast. Most of his weight was resting on one elbow while the fingers of his other hand were still tangled in Vin’s hair, his thumb stroking Vin’s temple slowly. “Much as I’d like to keep going from here, we’ve got to sleep sometime.”

Vin chuckled softly and slid his hands up Chris’ chest to loop his arms around Chris’ neck, smiling and feeling just about as happy as he could ever remember being. He raised one leg to hook it around behind Chris’ thigh, hips lifting to rub up against Chris’ renewing erection as he teased, “Not feelin’ sleepy to me, cowboy.”

Chris laughed softly. “Yeah, well, some parts are more tired than others.” He kissed Vin again, slow and sweet, and then smiled as he murmured, “Can’t help wantin’ you.” His smile widened into a grin. “I know, ‘cause I've spent more than a year tryin’.”

Vin laughed and let his leg fall back to the bed, feeling pleased and just a bit smug. He took it as a compliment that they had already spent hours having sex and all it had taken was a little kissing to put Chris well on the way towards another round. Vin’s cock was taking an interest too, of course, but Vin figured that didn’t count so much. Just touching Chris was enough to make him hard, whether he’d just gotten laid or not. “I’ll take that excuse.”

Chris snickered and spent a moment getting his fingers free of Vin’s tangled hair again, then pushed away and stood. “You’d better, if you know what’s good for you.”

Vin rolled to his side and propped his elbow on the bed, resting his temple on his fist and smirking as he watched Chris walk around the bed and cross the room to where the quilt had landed near the door. Chris was just as unselfconscious about being naked at home as he was in the bathhouse, and Vin was enjoying the view. It might not have been Chris’ body that first drew Vin to him, but he still figured Chris didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. Vin liked looking at him and enjoyed the way Chris’ muscles flexed as he moved almost as much as he enjoyed the simple fact Chris knew he was watching and liked the idea.

“Right now I’m thinkin’ you’re pretty good for me,” Vin said after a moment, still watching with a smirk.

Chris bent to pick up the quilt and then turned to look at Vin, grinning as he wadded the quilt up into a compact bundle. “That goes both ways.” He threw the quilt at Vin, aiming straight for his head, and then headed for the table in the other room to put out the lamp.

Vin batted the quilt away to keep from being hit in the face, laughing, then sat up and untangled it as he teased, “Kind of like you do.”

Chris didn’t answer, just smirking at Vin and blowing out the lamp. He padded back across the room in the dark and climbed up on the bed, pushing Vin back to lay under him again and looking down into Vin’s eyes in the dim moonlight coming in the window. “I got no intention to chase any more skirts,” he said with a little smile, “not when I’ve got you right here.” He kissed Vin softly and then pulled away, pulling the quilt over them both and then settling down on his back to go to sleep.

Vin just watched Chris in the dark for a moment to be sure he was comfortable before he moved closer, settling down against Chris’ side with one hand on Chris’ belly and his head on Chris’ shoulder. Vin never would have expected it of Chris until he learned it for himself the night before, but Chris was prone to latch on before he fell asleep and hold him through the night. It hadn’t taken Vin long at all to realize how much he liked it, or how relaxed and safe he felt when Chris held him. He had slept better in Chris' arms than he had in years, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t because of the featherbed.

Chris moved his hand to stroke Vin's hair, and then Vin felt Chris’ breath against his forehead and Chris kissed just below his hairline.

Vin tightened his arm around Chris’ waist for a moment, smiling softly as he decided this was what folks were talking about when they talked about being in love. He could see himself living happy the rest of his life just as he had the last two days, riding by day with the one man who knew him almost as well as he knew himself, and by night sleeping in that same man’s bed. He had thought he had a chance at something similar once years ago, but that self-delusion hadn’t lasted long. Laughing Bear had cared for Vin deeply, but he had never intended for their relationship to be anything more than a convenient arrangement between two warriors who were often far from camp.

Vin had never really looked for another relationship after Peso had killed Laughing Bear, instead actively avoiding the whole idea and becoming nearly celibate. He had wished he weren’t so much alone on the rare occasion when he let himself think about the subject, but he figured it was just asking for too much to want to find love, friendship, and sex all with just one man. He had taught himself not to need anyone else to keep his sanity, but he had never quite lost the hope even though he had accepted it wasn’t going to happen.

Now it had, and he never wanted it to end.

Years of choosing to ride and sleep alone hadn’t seemed so bad at the time, but after the last few days he couldn’t imagine living like that again. His life before he knew Chris seemed terribly lonely when he looked back on it, and he didn’t need Chris to say the words for him to know that Chris felt the same way.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Chris’ nose twitched and he snuffled sleepily as he opened his eyes and slowly realized two important things. The first and most obvious was that sunlight was already coming in his bedroom window above the pale muslin curtain, which meant the sun was above the treeline and it was a good hour or more past sunup. Knowing Vin as well as he did, he doubted that Vin was asleep, despite how still he was laying. Vin seldom slept more than five or six hours at a time, and he had never seen Vin sleep through the dawn unless he was badly hurt or exhausted.

The second realization followed right on the heels of the first as he noticed he was looking mostly at Vin’s long wavy curls, which were red-gold in the early morning sunlight. Vin’s hair was soft and shiny from their swim the night before – a swim they had both needed, despite spending so long in the rain the day before that – and smelled like clean sweat and something he would recognize anywhere as simply Vin.

Chris nuzzled closer so Vin’s hair would stop tickling his nose, smiling when Vin stretched slightly and then snuggled even closer as he let out a low noise that could only be called a purr. Vin was prone to being very vocal in bed, and Chris was learning to love every little sound that he could coax out of him.

“Sun’s been up a long time,” Vin murmured a few moments later, sounding amused and relaxed but very much awake as he nuzzled Chris’ throat. “I should prob’ly wanna move by now, huh?”

Chris chuckled softly and shifted one hand from Vin’s back to stroke his hair and try to smooth some of the more tangled curls, which were still tickling his face. “I told Ezra we’d sleep in. He can pass the word if anyone asks.”

Vin snickered and pulled back enough to look at Chris, blue eyes twinkling. “If he’s up. He was headin’ towards drunk when we left and had that pile of money burnin’ a hole in his pocket. No tellin’ when Inez got somebody to pour him into bed.”

Chris smirked. “Then he won’t complain about us bein’ late, so there’s no reason to hurry.”

Chris had barely gotten the words out of his mouth when there was a loud clatter on the porch and then something blocked the window as Pony nickered hopefully. Pony nudged his muzzle against the glass, making the window creak as he looked in at them over the curtain, ears up and eyes bright. A moment later Pony shifted his weight, and then his hoof thudded dully on wood as he pawed the wall below the window.

Chris snorted, amused. “Damned beggar.”

“He definitely don’t seem to agree there’s no reason for me to get up,” Vin teased with a smile. “We’ll be replacin’ that window again if we ignore him.”

Chris rolled to pin Vin under him, grinning wickedly. “I can afford another window, an’ I got better plans for your mornin’.”

Vin laughed and pushed at Chris’ shoulder. “You an’ your plans are gonna have to wait ‘til after I go outside. My teeth are floatin’.”

Chris let Vin push him away, flopping to his back next to Vin and grumbling good-naturedly, “Go on then, but I’m still havin’ you for breakfast.”

“Ain’t nothing I’d rather you do, _after_ I piss an’ feed that spoilt horse o’ yours,” Vin agreed, throwing back the quilt and rolling out of bed to hurry across the room to get his pants.

Chris tried not to snicker at Vin’s haste, knowing from years of riding together that Vin almost always headed for the bushes or an outhouse as soon as he woke up, whichever was more convenient. Vin could go all day in the saddle without having to stop for the call of nature, but if someone kept him from heading for the bushes right out of his bedroll there was sure to be hell to pay. Buck had held him back from hunting a bush just once, thinking it’d be funny, and Vin had been as patient as he could before he got desperate and then annoyed. Buck had thought Vin was bluffing when he unbuttoned his pants, sure Vin was too shy to really piss on him, but he let go right fast when the toes of his boots nearly got wet. Vin had promised to aim a lot higher if Buck ever did it again, and afterwards Buck made sure to get out of Vin’s way whenever he was heading for the bushes.

Chris smirked at the memory and enjoyed the view while Vin untangled his pants, which were all twisted up with one leg inside out because Chris had been in a hurry when he pulled them off. When Vin finally began to pull the britches on, Chris sat up and climbed out of bed to head into the other room. “I’ll put some coffee on. Don’t take forever feedin’ the mooch, he can do without bein’ brushed out while he eats this morning.”

Vin snickered, not bothering with a shirt as he shrugged into one suspender to keep his pants up, then snatched up his gunbelt as he padded barefoot to the door of the cabin. “Won’t be long.”

Chris grinned as he watched Vin close the door and then moved over to pick up his own pants and put them on, wanting something between him and the fire while he stoked up the stove. He wasn’t eighteen anymore, despite feeling like he was when Vin was making those little noises that seemed to go straight to Chris’ cock, but he still intended to indulge as often as humanly possible. It had been a long time since he spent half the night having sex and fooling around, and he was already feeling a bit sore from all the exercise he’d had the last few days. If there was one thing he sure didn’t want, it was sparks landing in sensitive places.

He didn’t know if it was Vin’s enthusiasm that made sex so intense between them or if it was just part of whatever had drawn them to each other across that street so long ago, but whatever it was he didn’t intend to ever give it up.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Anyone who had visited the Standish Saloon more than once or twice knew that the large table up on the raised platform by the stairs was reserved, and that the seven chairs around it were not to be borrowed no matter how crowded tables in the rest of the room might get. The town’s seven lawmen could often be found lounging around the big table of an evening, and there seldom passed a night that at least two or three of them weren’t there at some point.

It was common knowledge that Ezra, as the saloon’s owner, would usually seat himself with his back to the corner by the front wall unless he was gambling at one of the other tables with the locals. Chris and Vin were usually there even before Ezra in the evenings with their backs to the side wall, enjoying a meal or just a few drinks while they kept an eye on things. The others usually grabbed whatever chair was free, trusting Ezra, Chris, and Vin to watch the room behind them. Without the presence of their formidable leader, the tracker that had such a deadly reputation, or the gambler whose roving eyes seldom missed anything, their friends were a bit more careful and would put their own backs to the wall.

Chris’ preferred seat had the best view of the saloon, and a good view of the street outside as well when the saloon’s curtains were drawn back to officially open for business. Chris was also constantly moving the most comfortable of the seven chairs – Ezra’s chair! – over to ‘his’ spot when Ezra wasn’t looking, and it made Ezra feel a little smug every time he could manage to claim the chair first. It was of a more expensive make than the other mismatched chairs in the saloon with a low back and a curved depression sanded out in the seat to conform more comfortably to a person’s hind end, making the chair rather perfect to sprawl in as Chris so liked to do.

That particular morning Chris had yet to arrive, though, and Ezra was smirking as he walked towards their table with his usual easy grace to put a plate down by his coffee mug. He reached for the coffee pot to refill his mug and then settled into his chair a moment later, smiling and feeling rather chipper despite the lingering throb behind his eyes.

Colette, the rather pretty newcomer that Inez had recently hired to cook when she was too busy to bother, was a positive marvel with the meager staples available locally. She had whipped up a breakfast for Ezra that morning that surpassed even her usual fine fare while he watched intently and made mental notes. Biscuits and gravy were common enough, as was the bacon, but the other occupant on his plate more than made up for them.

It had been weeks since Ezra had a decent omelet that he didn’t have to make himself, much less one filled with sautéed onions and mushrooms that had to have been bigger than his fist before Colette sliced them. Such an omelet was his favorite breakfast, and Ezra intended to make it worth Colette’s while to make sure he got one more often. He had no idea where she had gotten the mushrooms, but he would pay a pretty penny to find out. He had been trying to find a source for fresh mushrooms since he wound up in Four Corners without luck. Shipping them in wasn’t worth the expense; by the time mushrooms from back east reached him they were always either too dried out to taste like anything, or moldy and ruined from being packed with too much moisture.

Ezra dug in to his breakfast with unseemly glee, glad there was no one around to witness the happy noises he made as he ate. His friends never ceased to be good company, but there were times he could easily do without their ribbing about his enjoyment of the simple pleasures in life.

The one least likely to ruin the moment when Ezra was enjoying himself was Chris, though that was more because Chris was too busy smirking and enjoying the show than out of any courtesy on his part. Buck and JD were usually the worst, teasing Ezra ruthlessly whenever they got the chance, but Josiah could be quite trying with his sly comments that Ezra truly didn’t know if he should accept at face value or not. Nathan seldom said anything unless the others began it, but when he joined in with them he could be as bad as Buck and JD were.

Vin teased Ezra fairly mildly in front of the others, usually just taking a page out of Chris’ book and sitting back to watch with the occasional well-timed comment, but if there were no one else around he was worse than any of them. Vin was quiet enough so much of the time in public that many forgot he had a sharp wit to go with that soft Texas drawl. He often indulged in verbal sparring with Ezra, usually with enough flirting to make Ezra wonder what might be going on behind those sparkling blue eyes. More than once he had considered making advances beyond their easy flirting, but he had never done so for one reason: Chris.

Chris was quite simply Vin’s world and Ezra was certain that the feeling was mutual long before either of them realized it. Ezra wasn’t privy to Chris’ confidences, of course, but Ezra prided himself on knowing another man’s tells and he had seen plenty over the last three years to make him sure Chris was deeply in love with their favorite tracker. He sometimes wondered how any of the others could miss it, especially after Vin’s brush with death when a bullet grazed his head and left him comatose. He wasn’t sure Chris had even been aware of his audience that long night waiting for Vin to wake, but Ezra and the others had been there through it all. Chris’ reaction when Vin finally woke later that morning left no doubts in Ezra’s mind that Vin was everything Chris felt he had to live for.

Seeing Chris the night before had been a revelation. Chris had been more relaxed and pleased with life than Ezra had ever seen him before, and more than once he’d found himself wishing that hungry grey-green gaze was trained on him. Ezra suddenly remembered how Chris had behaved later in the stable and felt his cheeks heating up. He had often wished for but never actually _expected_ to be on the receiving end of such blatant flirting from Chris, and he was quite sure that neither Chris nor Vin had missed his rather physical reaction. He had very nearly forgotten himself and made an offer he would regret, but thankfully his good sense had kicked in before he could open his mouth.

Ezra would have greatly enjoyed dallying a few hours – or days, for that matter – in a featherbed with Chris and Vin, but it simply was not worth risking their friendship for, no matter how pleasurable such an indulgence would be. He would never willingly betray Vin’s trust, and he was of the opinion that was exactly what he would be doing if he made advances towards either of them, especially while the thing between Chris and Vin was still so obviously new. He felt they needed time to learn each other before any distractions were added in, especially considering Chris’ lack of experience with men. Vin should be the one to introduce Chris to the pleasures they could have together, not only because of the depth of their feeling for each other but also because Ezra was quite sure there was no one else Chris trusted more in the world.

Ezra finished the last of his breakfast and settled back in his chair with his coffee, his gaze on the table in front of him. It hadn’t escaped his attention that it was Vin’s decision to include him in their tiny circle of trust, and he intended to prove to Chris that he was worthy of Vin’s confidence in him. He had no illusions about Chris’ opinion of his sometimes-flexible sense of right and wrong, but he also knew he had Chris’ respect and trust, if not to so great a degree as he might have liked. He wanted to keep that trust and show Chris that he truly could be relied on as much because Chris’ opinion mattered to him as because it would affect his relationship with Vin. Vin was the closest friend and confidant Ezra had ever been graced with and he treasured their easy camaraderie too much to endanger it.

Boots thudded up onto the quiet boardwalk in front of the saloon then, spurs jingling familiarly with every step. Ezra looked up, stifling a laugh as he watched Chris walk through the batwing doors with Vin right behind him. Chris was smirking slightly and looked so completely satisfied with himself and life in general that Ezra wondered how in the world he intended to keep his new relationship with Vin a secret. He had seen Chris walk out of a _brothel_ looking less like he had just gotten laid, and while he knew that Chris was very good at hiding anything he didn’t want to share, he had his doubts that Chris even realized he looked like he’d recently had truly spectacular sex and enjoyed every second of it.

Vin wasn’t quite so obvious as Chris was, but for anyone who knew him as well as Ezra did the signs of a night spent in erotic pursuits were easy to spot. There was no change to his usual graceful stride as Ezra had half expected, but there was a sparkle in Vin’s eyes that spoke loudly of his state of mind. Ezra had seen Vin right after his last visit to a brothel – which had been instigated by a very drunk Chris – and the difference in Vin’s manner and expression after a night with Chris was like the difference between night and day. Ezra had never seen Vin so relaxed and obviously satisfied before, not even in private.

Chris took the four stairs up to their table in two long strides and moved around the table to pull out the chair next to Ezra, where Chris could have his back to the wall. He grinned at Ezra as he flopped into the seat and said cheerfully, “Afternoon, Ezra. Surprised to find you just having breakfast so late.”

Vin laughed and pushed his hat back to hang from the stampede string as he settled into the chair at Ezra’s other side with his back towards the stairs. “Way you were talking last night, we thought you were gettin’ up early.”

“It is still morning, gentlemen, if just barely so,” Ezra said as he glanced from Chris to Vin, amused. “I had a rather late night, if you must know.” He arched an eyebrow, smirking, “As did someone else I could name, it seems, or two someones I should say.”

Vin grinned and looked towards the door, not rising to the bait, but Chris smirked at Ezra and leaned a little closer as he murmured, “I bet I enjoyed stayin’ up half the night more than you did, and was a hell of a lot happier with what I woke up to.”

Vin laughed, surprised, and scolded with a grin, “Be nice.”

Chris grinned at Vin. “What? Just the truth. You know how Ezra hates wakin’ up with a hangover.”

Vin just snorted, amused.

“I assure you, my evening was quite well spent, Mr. Larabee,” Ezra said when he could get a word in edgewise, amused despite the pang of envy he had to quash. He would give everything in his pockets to step into Vin’s shoes for a few hours, and he had done much better than average at the tables the night before. “I sent several cowhands home rather poorer than they arrived, broke up three fights, jailed a man who was cheating poorly at cards in _my_ saloon, and had to order Mr. Dunne home to bed before he had to be poured into it.” He smirked. “It seems that the object of the boy’s affections has decided not to allow anyone who can’t defeat her in a horse race to court her, and Dancer is simply not as fast as her favorite.”

Chris laughed and shook his head, grinning. “Poor kid. Once he figures a way around that one, it’ll be something else.”

Vin snickered, nodding. “Casey’s as scared of him winnin’ as he is of losin’. Girl don’t know whether she wants courted or not.”

Ezra smirked a bit wider. “I understand this most recent panic was brought on by Mr. Dunne using the ‘m’ word.”

Vin blinked. “Which ‘m’ word might that be, Ezra? I can think of a couple JD might shock the girl with if they slipped out.”

Chris snickered and answered before Ezra could. “Marriage. I’d bet my boots on it.”

“And you’d win,” Ezra agreed, still smirking. “As I understood it from Mr. Dunne – who was, I should point out, sloshed to the gills by that time – they went for a ride yesterday afternoon and the conversation turned towards their relationship. I gathered that the young lady was seeking assurances his affections were confined to her alone, and instead she received a proposal. It did not go over well, and JD rode back to town alone.” He paused and then added with amusement, “With a black eye.”

Vin started laughing as Chris snickered and muttered, “Poor dumb kid.”

The door behind the bar opened and Colette walked out, smiling happily and carrying two more of the heavy porcelain coffee mugs like Ezra’s. She was dressed like a fancy whore that morning, complete with makeup and high-piled curls, and the flour sack apron tied over her vivid red dress stood out like a turkey in a henhouse. She spoke English very well but with a definite French accent, though Ezra wasn’t convinced that she had ever been there. He thought New Orleans more likely, but wasn’t certain she had even that much claim to the accent. “Ah, I was thinking I heard the friends of the boss! What will it be for you this lovely day?”

Chris looked over at Colette, grinning as he finally took off his hat and hung it on the back of the empty chair next to him. “Mornin’ ma’am. Whatever you’ve got on the stove’d be fine. Anything you make is gonna be better than what we can get down to the restaurant.”

Colette beamed as she climbed the stairs up to their table. “Chris, how you do charm a lady!” She turned her attention to Vin, still beaming as she offered him the mugs. “And for you, Vin? What would you like for breakfast?”

Vin grinned as he leaned to take the mugs and then reached for the coffee pot. “Load up a plate an’ I’ll be glad to tuck in, Colette. You know I’m easy.”

Chris smirked at Vin, obviously concerning the ‘easy’ comment, and Ezra had to stifle the urge to laugh. Chris could be as transparent as a pane of glass on occasion, though luckily for all concerned it was a rare thing. Or had been, at least. It remained to be seen if he would be able to control himself when he needed to. Vin’s quite considerable charms seemed to have effortlessly destroyed the prickly walls Chris had used to keep everyone at bay for so long.

“Wonderful! I will be right back with a lovely breakfast for you both!” Colette beamed at them and then turned and walked quickly back down the stairs and around the bar into the kitchen.

“Easy, huh?” Chris teased softly as soon as she was gone, watching Vin fill both mugs with coffee.

Ezra did laugh then, surprised Chris was willing to go there with an audience of even one other person. He had always thought Chris to be a very private man, but it was beginning to look as if he might have been mistaken.

Vin actually blushed a bit as he grinned at Chris and offered him a mug of coffee, murmuring, “You don’t agree?”

“Not so’s you’d notice,” Chris replied, smirking as he half stood to reach for his mug. “If you were _easy_ you wouldn’t have been just watchin’ me take a bath so long.”

Ezra snickered, and then smiled innocently at the look Vin gave him. He had teased Vin about his choice of bath times rather often, and even told Vin where Chris was and vice versa quite a few times because Vin so obviously liked to watch Chris bathe. The fact he had done so on more than one occasion expressly so he could join them and enjoy the view was completely irrelevant. 

“Don’t you start, Ezra!” Vin said quickly, trying not to laugh as he settled back with his own coffee. “I seem to recall you wanderin’ in more than a few times, too.”

Ezra smirked and answered without hesitation, “And if asked by either of you – in privacy, of course – I wouldn’t have denied why I chose to bathe at such a time. I might well have made certain that I was armed and had an escape route before I answered, but that is neither here nor there.”

Chris snickered and settled back in his chair again with his coffee mug cradled in one hand, leaning the other elbow on the table. “Something you’re trying to tell us, Ezra?”

“There is no need for me to further nourish your already overfed egos, gentlemen,” Ezra replied dryly, giving Chris an amused look.

“You just did, Ezra,” Chris said, smug.

Vin laughed and nodded. “Pretty well, too.”

Ezra laughed softly and took a sip of his coffee, a little surprised but definitely pleased at the sudden turn the friendship he had with Chris and Vin had taken. He doubted it would ever progress past teasing, but even that was a welcome change. He had hidden his inclinations for so long that he had wondered if he would ever have even one friend who knew him for exactly who he was and accepted him anyway.

To have two such friends was a very great gift.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Part 11

 

Chris leaned back to enjoy his third cup of coffee, smiling as he watched Vin and Ezra talk. They had been teasing each other and gossiping all through breakfast, and he was enjoying it almost as much as they were. Playing audience and putting in a comment or two occasionally was just his speed that time of day, especially if it was Vin he was spending his time watching. Watching Vin talk to Ezra was just that much more enjoyable because Vin was so relaxed and obviously enjoying himself. Vin was seldom as open and playful – outside of their cabin, at least – as when he was talking to Ezra in relative privacy.

Colette had left and Inez was still at church, so the three men were quite alone in the saloon. There were only three suites of rooms upstairs after Ezra’s recent remodel, and of the three only two were occupied. Ezra’s rooms were at the front of the saloon, and Inez’ were at the back with the view over the alley, the church’s grounds, and the meadow beyond. The third ‘suite’ was just two small rooms that theoretically belonged to Maude as the third owner of the saloon, but she never used them when she visited. Maude preferred the fawning and constant attention she got at the hotel across the street to Ezra’s grudging tolerance of her company.

Ezra had relaxed visibly after the batwing doors closed behind Colette, and within a few minutes he had dropped much of his usual screen of what Vin called ‘five dollar words’ to speak almost plainly. Chris could count on one hand the number of times Ezra had sounded so happy without being drunk, and it surprised him a bit how pleased he was to hear it again. It was nice to see Ezra relaxed enough to drop the cultured cadences he so often hid behind. Chris had often wondered if anyone even knew the real Ezra, and seeing Ezra act so different from his public persona just reinforced that idea.

When Ezra seemed to be feeling relaxed and secure in their privacy, Vin asked what had happened in town while he was gone, and Ezra proved himself to be even more deeply entrenched in the rumor mill than Buck was. It surprised Chris how thorough Ezra was in his knowledge of the town, but it amused him, too. He hadn’t ever known that Ezra was Vin’s source for all the little bits and pieces of rumor he seemed to know, and seeing Vin coax more details out of Ezra whenever Ezra didn’t share enough to suit him was more than a little enlightening. Ezra seemed to revel in the teasing attention, and Vin obviously enjoyed dishing it out at least as much.

By the time Vin and Chris finished their steak and eggs, Ezra had gotten them up to speed on everything that they had missed while they were gone. The tidbits of gossip ranged from one end of town to the other and beyond, and Chris found himself actually enjoying much of the conversation. Ezra somehow made even the most mundane rumors amusing, relaying them with a flair that made it impossible not to find the humor in them. His litany of the week’s ‘highlights’ had Chris and Vin both laughing, especially when Ezra’s attention turned towards their friends.

Nettie Wells’ best mare had finally had her foal by Yosemite’s stockhorse stallion the same evening Vin and Chris rode out of town, a stout black colt Casey had named Rondo King. She had invited JD out to see the colt the next morning after church, and King had promptly begun fawning all over JD to the point Casey got jealous and stomped off in a huff. JD and Casey had fought and made up three times since then, and JD was so confused he was talking about marrying her even though he and Casey had barely kissed yet and the girl had never even hinted she wanted any part of marriage. Nettie wasn’t sure she liked the idea of Casey getting married to a gunman, even if he was sheriff about half the time, and she’d been giving JD looks that were fit to curdle milk.

Billy Travis had borrowed a friend’s pony to go fishing on Monday because nobody would take him, and then the pony wandered back into town without its new bridle an hour later, which of course panicked Mary. Josiah and Buck found Billy’s clothes scattered along the pony’s back trail, and then finally found Billy napping naked on the bank of a creek with three big trout on a string that trailed into the water and a sunburn from his toes to his hairline. When they got him home Mary threatened to tan Billy’s hide for going skinny-dipping, sunburn or no, and Billy had been working extra chores in Mrs. Potter’s store ever since to pay for the lost bridle that likely wound up as a snack for a bored dog or coyote.

Buck got chased out of Blossom’s second-story bedroom window on Tuesday morning when he discovered the hard way that her husband was out of prison again for the moment. Buck had landed naked as the day he was born in front of Mary Travis, and she had fainted dead away right there in the street. Buck ran into the bathhouse to get off the street, but forgot it was ladies’ day and the town’s women didn’t let him stay long. Inez was wearing just her shift when she chased him out, brandishing the heavy paddle that was used for stirring the kettle that was available for patrons to boil their laundry in while they bathed. Buck had wound up bruised and indignant in the jail, still naked, and had a fit when JD, Josiah, and Ezra were laughing too hard in their chairs outside to go find him something to wear. Blossom’s husband had burned Buck’s boots, hat, and clothes by the time Josiah went to talk her into giving him Buck’s things, and kept Buck’s money as damages when he let Josiah have Buck’s gunbelt and spurs. Buck walked around town barefoot and hatless for two days before Ezra took pity on him and let Buck win enough at poker to buy some boots and a new hat.

Nathan had been out of town most of the week, so he hadn’t done anything gossip-worthy. Josiah had been quiet even after the fiasco with Blossom’s husband until Thursday afternoon, when he rode out of town like the hounds of hell were chasing him. He came back Friday, reeking of perfume and beaming at anyone who so much as looked at him. It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out where he had gone, and JD followed Josiah around for half that afternoon trying to find out who the lady was before Josiah finally admitted it was _three_ ladies at the brothel in Jericho. JD was properly impressed until he happened to mention it to Casey with a bit too much admiration, which seemed to have sparked their fight on Saturday.

When Ezra finally ran out of gossip about their friends from the week Chris and Vin were out of the loop, the conversation somehow drifted to horses and soon Vin and Ezra were discussing the often-repeated fact that Ezra needed to give Chaucer more exercise. Ezra’s excuse for leaving the high-strung gelding in a stall most of the time was that he didn’t like to go riding alone after a disgruntled gambling opponent had followed him and taken his clothes, saddle, bridle, and money at gunpoint. Ezra had been forced to ride back to town bareback wearing just his boots, which he had been allowed to keep only because they didn’t fit the man who had taken everything else he was wearing. Ezra had been sore for days afterwards, cursing if anyone so much as mentioned a horse.

Vin was still snickering over Ezra’s expression as he recalled the uncomfortable ride when Chris found himself inviting Ezra to ride out with him and Vin sometime in the next few days. Ezra’s pleased surprise was almost comical, and the bright grin Chris got from Vin made the prospect of sleeping in the barn for a night seem like a small price to pay. He’d rather let Ezra have the featherbed in the house than listen to Ezra complain, and the loft was far enough from the cabin for privacy if Vin got loud. Vin had a thick hay-stuffed buckskin mattress in the loft that he insisted was as comfortable as a real bed, so it wasn’t as if it would be torture.

Vin started teasing Ezra about being so surprised his friends wanted his company, and Chris enjoyed watching them banter despite the fact he soon wondered what their feelings for each other really were. He didn’t doubt that they had never done anything – Vin would have told him – but every once in a while Ezra looked at Vin with a warmth that looked to Chris like it was a lot more than friendship. Chris caught several glimpses of an expression in Ezra’s eyes that looked as though he wanted badly to kiss Vin, but Ezra was so good at controlling the rest of his expression that it would have been easy to miss if Chris wasn’t watching them so closely by then.

Chris commented teasingly on something Vin said a few minutes later, and he was more than a little shocked when Ezra turned that same warm, laughing gaze on him to thank Chris for backing him up. He stared into Ezra’s sparkling green eyes, unable to look away as he wondered why Ezra thought he deserved such a warm, affectionate look that was so different from Ezra’s usual friendly aloofness.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Vin snickered at the way Ezra was looking at Chris, wondering if Ezra was even aware of it as Chris blinked in surprise and just stared into Ezra’s eyes, still grinning at his own joke at Vin’s expense. Ezra didn’t seem to be able to look away any more than Chris could, and Vin was about to tease them both about it when he heard a sudden thunder of boots on the boardwalk and then Buck’s voice, seeming too loud in the silence as Buck breezed into the saloon.

“Figured you three would still be hidin’ out in here!”

Chris and Ezra quickly looked over at Buck, their masks falling in place as easy as breathing, and Vin had to fight not to laugh. Chris had enjoyed spending time with Ezra a lot more than Vin had expected, and Ezra had definitely noticed. Vin hadn’t seen that warm, welcoming look Ezra sometimes directed at him given to anyone else before. He was glad to see it focused on Chris, even though he knew there likely wouldn’t ever be anything more between them than that silent affection. He enjoyed seeing Ezra relax and let himself be happy, and that would be a lot more likely to happen around Vin if Ezra felt safe enough to let his guard down around Chris as well.

Buck leaned over the bar to grab a mug and draw himself a beer before he sauntered over to join them, leaping lightly up the stairs and grinning widely as he flopped down in the chair next to Chris. “Inez volunteered you to help organize the church social next Saturday, Ezra, since you pointed a gun at her when she tried to wake you to walk her to church this mornin’. Mrs. Potter’s gonna get with you later.” He ignored Ezra’s groan and took a swig of his beer before he smirked at Chris, adding, “And Inez said to tell you that God forgives you for hidin’ from him on the Sabbath, but she doesn’t and you’d better not make a nuisance of yourself anytime soon if you know what’s good for you.” He kicked at Vin’s knee lightly under the table, smirking at Vin. “You’re just a heathen, so you got off scot free.”

Vin snickered. “Knew bein’ a breed had to be good for somethin’.”

Chris gave Vin a dirty look. “Vin.”

Vin blinked and then realized what he’d said and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, slipped out.”

“Likely story,” Chris muttered, refilling his coffee cup with the last of the pot.

Buck snickered, looking from Vin to Chris and back again. “What’s his problem?”

Vin smiled innocently at Buck, waiting a moment for Chris to lift the coffee and take a drink before he drawled, “Musta woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Chris inhaled the coffee, coughing and choking while Ezra helpfully pounded on his back and Vin pretended not to see the shocked look in Buck’s eyes. Buck looked a little uncomfortable as he drank down half his beer in one long gulp, but Vin wasn’t even a little surprised that a glance at Ezra showed the gambler was enjoying Buck and Chris’ discomfort. Ezra had a wicked sense of humor and always enjoyed seeing other people thrown off balance.

Ezra spoke up suddenly, green eyes twinkling merrily as he teased, “Mr. Larabee, I do believe coffee is not meant to be inhaled.” He lifted his own mug of lukewarm coffee as if to demonstrate, sipping delicately at it. "Swallowing is much more enjoyable."

Chris coughed again and scowled at Vin, then turned the glare on Ezra. “Thanks for passin’ on that pearl of wisdom, Ezra. I never would’ve guessed.” The sarcasm in his tone was thick enough to cut with a knife, and Vin couldn’t help snickering.

Vin saw Ezra’s lips twitch and realized the wicked glint in his eyes didn’t bode well just as Buck spoke up, hurriedly changing the subject as far from the previous track as he could. “Miss Lorrie and Danny are at the church too, she wanted me to pass along that she’d send Danny for his shootin’ lesson afterwards.” He was watching Chris as he spoke, completely ignoring Vin and Ezra. “Billy wants to watch if you don’t mind, but his ma doesn’t want him actually shootin’ a gun. She says he’s too little.”

Chris snorted, still scowling as he muttered, “Don’t look at me, Vin’s the one givin’ lessons.”

Vin glanced at Chris, amused by his disgruntled tone, and then looked over at Buck. “I don’t mind. I can teach two as easy as one.”

Ezra smirked slightly. “Are you giving the local urchins lessons in firearm safety now, Mr. Tanner?”

Vin grinned at Ezra. “You could call it that. Danny’s needin’ to learn, an’ that little yellaboy carbine I bought off Red Butler’s perfect for a kid his size.”

Ezra’s smirk widened just a bit, his green eyes sparkling. “The very same carbine you liked so much, if I recall correctly?”

“I got a rifle, Ez,” Vin said quickly, laughing slightly. “I don’t really need the yellaboy too.”

“Of course,” Ezra agreed, smirking as he reached over to pat Vin’s arm as if humoring him. “As you could live without the money you donated so stealthily to the widow Calhoun, I am sure.”

Buck had been looking back and forth from Vin to Ezra, brow furrowed and a confused look on his face, and Chris finally couldn’t stand it anymore. “Stop thinkin’ so hard, Bucklin. You’ll break somethin’.”

Vin looked quickly at Buck, still amused, and was surprised by the annoyed frown Buck was giving him. “What’d I do?”

Buck opened his mouth to answer, still frowning slightly, then darted a glance at Ezra and shut his mouth again as the frown deteriorated into a scowl. “Nothin’.”

“Then why’re you lookin’ at me like I just kicked your puppy?” Vin asked reasonably, bemused. Buck could be a moody drunk, but Vin was pretty sure Buck was holding his first beer of the day so that couldn’t be the problem.

Buck shot Ezra another look and then muttered, “Forget it.”

Chris rolled his eyes and then scowled at Buck irritably. “I don’t need a keeper, Buck.” He glanced around the saloon to be sure they were still alone, then looked at Vin and said quietly, “He’s bein’ a damn fool, is all. No tellin’ what he’s got into that head of his, but if you made me guess I’d say he thinks you an’ Ezra are actin’ friendly an’ the idiot feels like it’s his job to get annoyed over it for me.” He gave Buck a withering look, keeping his voice pitched quietly as he added pointedly, “Cause of course I ain’t any good at kickin’ some ass if it’s needed. I’ve gone and fallen for someone with a dick so I musta turned into a woman and not noticed.”

Vin burst out laughing at the very idea of Chris being girly while Ezra smirked at Buck and said, “Your worries are completely unfounded, Mr. Wilmington, though I can understand the reason for them.” He preened, looking smug. “I _am_ irresistible.”

Buck kept scowling and muttered, “Not hardly.”

Vin managed to stifle his laughter into an occasional snicker, not wanting to miss anything as Chris snorted and said dryly, “Which is why you’re the only one here who’s sleepin’ alone, Ezra.”

Ezra smirked at Chris, green eyes more than a little challenging. “For now, but I do believe you invited me to spend a day or two at your cabin, did you not, Mr. Larabee?”

Buck jerked his head around to stare at Chris, looking shocked as hell. “You _what_?!”

Chris actually blushed, scowling at Buck. “Chaucer needs the exercise and you know Ezra don’t like ridin’ alone anymore. Headin’ out to our place with us’ll let him run Chaucer out an’ still keep ‘em both out of trouble. If we send him out ridin’ patrol with someone else there ain’t no tellin’ what kind of trouble will find him. Besides, Chaucer’s been cooped up for weeks and could stand a few days turned out grazin’ with Pony and Peso, but he ain’t about to stay put if Ezra’s not there.”

“Ez wants to try out the loft,” Vin added, grinning widely at Chris calling it ‘our place’. He never would have asked for it, or taken that liberty first himself, but he did enjoy the sound of it. “He’s been buggin’ me about it for weeks.”

Ezra was obviously trying not to laugh as he said quickly, “Oh no, I refuse to sleep in a drafty barn when there is a real bed available.”

Chris rolled his eyes and didn’t bother to answer that, but Vin smirked and teased Ezra, “It’ll be occupied.”

“Yes, and?” Ezra said, smirking right back at Vin rather challengingly. “Sharing a bed is much preferable to sleeping in a _barn_.”

Buck shuddered and looked around the room worriedly, then at Chris as he said quietly, “Tell me you’re not gonna be screwin’ him too.”

Chris gave Buck a dirty look. “Do I ask _you_ who you’re plannin’ on screwin’ around with, Buck?”

Vin saw the flash of shock in Ezra’s eyes, not at all surprised Ezra hadn’t believed Chris was serious since Vin doubted if _Chris_ knew whether Chris was serious or not, and then he noticed Buck’s expression and had to laugh. Buck looked like somebody had whapped him over the head with a board, caught somewhere between shock and annoyance with a healthy helping of confusion mixed in.

“It ain’t like you got a leg to stand on if you’re gonna try lecturin’ someone about keepin’ it in their pants,” Chris added when Buck didn’t speak after a moment, seeming to ignore Vin’s amusement. “If you ain’t gettin’ in a new bed three or four times a week you feel plumb mistreated.”

Buck blinked and then protested, “That ain’t the same thing, Chris, and you damn well know it!” He darted a look at the doors again and then whispered fiercely, “You’re talkin’ about havin’ _two men_ in your bed like it’s somethin’ normal!”

Chris leaned towards Buck, suddenly angry. “You ain’t got no room to talk to _me_ about havin’ more than one person in my bed either, Buck Wilmington, and it ain’t none of your business if I’m sleepin’ with men or women or even a goddamned sheep.” Buck shied back a bit and Chris settled back into his chair, his tone of voice still hard as he added quietly, “You’re bein’ an ass over something that’s none of your concern. I thought we had this talk already and you were gonna let me and Vin ride our trail without givin’ us shit over it.”

Buck stared at Chris for a moment and then looked at Vin, and Vin saw the confusion still plain in Buck’s eyes. Vin felt like he should say something, but he had no idea what to add to what Chris had already said. He figured Chris had made himself plain, but he was still pretty sure Chris was defending his right to do something he wasn’t sure he wanted to do in the first place. It was just the kind of stubborn that was typical of Chris, who hated to be told he wasn’t allowed to do something. It was one of the quickest ways to piss him off.

Ezra spoke up before Vin could find the words, quiet and sounding a bit bored as he said, “Mr. Wilmington, you needn’t worry yourself so, Mr. Tanner and I were merely teasing.” Vin looked quickly at Ezra and saw that his expression was guarded, his eyes flat and rather unhappy, and Vin had to fight the urge to glare at Buck for being such an idiot. It wasn’t easy for Ezra to trust and let as much of himself show as he had, and it annoyed Vin that Buck had made Ezra regret it. That would just make it that much harder for Ezra to trust anyone but Vin or possibly Chris again, and Vin had never liked that Ezra felt he had to keep himself so isolated. “I had thought that in light of you obvious prior knowledge of certain things you would not take such offense to a little harmless repartee, but I see that I was very wrong. I shall remember in the future not to mention the subject at hand in your presence.”

Buck looked at Ezra, frowning, and then back at Chris. “So he ain’t gonna be stayin’ out there with you?”

“That ain’t here or there, and it's none of your damned business,” Chris said firmly, glaring at Buck. “If we wanna invite one of our __closest friends to stay with us, it’s _our_ land and _our_ home and we’ll do whatever we damned well please while we’re there. You and I have been through a lot, pard, but _nobody_ tells me who I can and can’t have in my bed. If Ezra’s willin’ and we invite him t’ join us for a little fun, that’s between him and us.” He paused and then added pointedly, “An’ you of all people have no room to complain.”

“Me sleepin’ around is different, Chris,” Buck said softly, still frowning. “I ain’t got someone who feels about me like Vin does about you.”

Chris suddenly stood up and snatched his hat off the back of Buck’s chair, glaring down at Buck with his eyes gone a cold, stony grey. “That’s right, you don’t. If he doesn’t like something I say or do he’s damn sure capable of sayin’ so, and kickin’ my ass for it too if he thinks I deserve it. You’re not his keeper or mine, and you need to get your head out of your ass and think before you say somethin’ I can’t walk away from.” He turned away and stalked off quickly, boots and spurs loud as he clattered down the stairs and across the saloon, out the doors after only a moment or two.

Buck looked over at Vin, obviously expecting Vin to follow Chris, and when Vin showed no sign of getting up Buck pulled off his hat to scrub one hand through his hair. “Translate for me, Vin. Please? I’m not tryin’ to piss him off, honest. Chris is the closest thing I got to a brother. I just want to understand.”

Vin smiled crookedly. “No you don’t.”

Buck threw his hat down in Chris’ empty chair, scowling again. “I do, dammit! He’s my best friend! I just want to understand what’s goin’ on with him.”

“You know what’s goin’ on,” Vin said patiently, trying hard not to get annoyed by Buck’s attitude. He knew that Buck hated being confused and usually responded by getting angry, and it wouldn’t do any good for him to get mad too. Chris was mad enough for the both of them. “I’m not gonna try to explain the particulars to you, I reckon you can figure them out for yourself.”

Buck stared at Vin a moment and then sighed, shoulders slumping as he looked down again. “It ain’t about that. I can figure the—“ He fidgeted and actually blushed, and Vin suddenly had to work at it not to laugh at Buck’s obvious embarrassment. “The _physical_ part just fine.” He looked up again, frowning. “It’s the rest I just don’t get.”

“We need each other,” Vin said softly, settling more comfortably in his chair. “It don’t get much simpler than that, Bucklin.”

Buck took a slow deep breath and then was quiet, obviously thinking, so Vin held his peace and let Buck think. Sometimes it took a while for an idea to really sink in for Buck, especially if Buck didn’t like it, so he’d give him some time. Vin was in no hurry, he knew how much Buck’s friendship meant to Chris and he’d be damned if it would be his fault that it ended. Chris hadn’t indicated he wanted Vin to leave with him, and Vin figured that meant Chris was hoping he could help Buck understand. Chris’ temper was already twisted up a bit too short for him to get it done and Vin knew that Chris realized it. That was why Chris had walked out. He didn’t want to keep snapping at Buck until they said things that couldn’t be forgiven.

“Vin is my very closest friend,” Ezra said quietly into the silence after a few minutes, looking at Buck. “And as his friend, and Chris’ as well, I find I must speak up, Mr. Wilmington.”

Buck actually flinched at being addressed so formally right after Ezra called Vin and Chris by their given names, and Vin wondered why Ezra had chosen to do that. He was sure it had been a conscious choice on Ezra’s part, but Vin didn’t quite see what the point to it was. Of course, he seldom did. Ezra’s choice of words could mystify him something awful when Ezra was trying to dance around a subject. He knew just exactly how to phrase things to leave Vin in the dust wondering what he had said.

“You are correct in assuming that my tastes run towards men,” Ezra went on quietly, “but you are forgetting that I am their friend as well. I would not step between them, even for a night, for all the gold in the US Mint.” Ezra’s eyes looked sad, and Vin was surprised a bit by the sudden impulse to reach out to him. Ezra seemed not to notice Vin watching him so closely as he looked into Buck’s eyes and said very softly, “They are very lucky men, Mr. Wilmington, and more deeply in love than you or I are ever likely to be so fortunate as to be. You know that quite well, if you would only forego indulging your prejudices against certain acts and see the truth. It does nothing to help yourself or your friends to doubt that a connection so strong could be anything other than good for them both.” Ezra paused and then added, “Personally speaking, I have greatly enjoyed seeing Chris laughing and smiling so much last night and today. I am rather pleased to see his outlook so significantly improved, and I would not see that end.”

Buck looked away, staring at the saloon doors for several minutes in silence before he finally looked at Ezra again. “You’re right, Ezra. It _is_ good to see Chris so much his old self again.” He swallowed, looking down at the table before he looked at Vin again. “An’ I need to apologize to you, Vin. I know I’m bein’ an ass to you most of all, but it’s not deliberate.”

Vin smiled. “I already knew that.” He paused and then added, “Chris does, too. That’s why he left it for us to try to explain. He gets frustrated when he can’t make you understand somethin’ that's so plain and simple to him, Buck, an’ it makes him angry as much at himself as at your thick skull.”

Buck’s brow furrowed in confusion again, and Ezra said gently, “Chris is a very private man. It does not surprise me that he could not summon up the words to make even his oldest friend understand his feelings, or the reasoning behind his actions. He is not prone to explaining either.” Ezra smiled crookedly, amused. “On many occasions I have thought he does not even attempt to understand such things, relying on instinct to guide him instead. It has worked quite well for him, but it _does_ make for difficulties when attempting to figure out his motives, or on the rare occasion when he wishes to explain them.”

Buck smiled finally, lips twisting wryly. “Yeah, I can see that. Ol’ Chris hasn’t ever been much for openin’ up and talkin’ about his feelings.” He ran his fingers through his hair again and then looked from Ezra to Vin, curious and still a little confused but smiling slightly. “How did you two know not to follow him? The way I been actin’, I doubt you stayed for my sparklin’ company.”

Vin chuckled. “Chris didn’t ask me to go.”

“And I do not abandon a friend,” Ezra added quietly, smiling. “I learned my lesson on that score quite some time ago.”

“He didn’t ask you to stay either, Vin,” Buck said, bemused. “I don’t see how you can know he wanted you to stay.”

“He didn’t go far,” Vin said, smiling. “An’ you know by now Chris don’t have to say anything to tell me what he wants. If he had needed me with him, I’d a been a step behind. He just needed time to cool off, so I’m in here talkin’ at you while he’s out there on the boardwalk tryin’ to forget he wanted to punch his best friend.”

Ezra chuckled softly, looking at Vin. “I rather think he wanted to shoot him, myself.”

Vin grinned at Ezra. “Nah, Buck didn’t cross that line just yet. Got awful close, but he’s got a little horse sense buried under all that hair.”

Buck blinked and just looked at them a moment, then snorted. “Okay, yeah, I’m an idiot. We can move on now.” He reached for his beer, draining the last of it and then putting down the mug as he gave Vin and Ezra a wary look. “Are there any other surprises waitin’ to spring on me?”

“Surprises?” Ezra asked, lips twitching into a smirk. “Such as?”

“I dunno,” Buck said with a soft laugh, “maybe Nathan or Josiah’s swingin’ both ways these days, for all I know. I don’t seem to know half so much about my friends as I thought I did.”

Vin snickered at that and Ezra smirked at Buck. “To the best of my knowledge you need not worry on that front, Mr. Wilmington.”

Vin grinned widely and added, “But Ezra’s got him a blind spot about six-two and an axe-handle wide, so don’t be too shocked if he’s wrong.”

Ezra looked sharply at Vin, eyebrows lifting. “Do I now?”

Vin smirked at Ezra, wondering if Ezra could be any more oblivious to the fact Josiah had been subtly flirting with him for almost as long as the two had known each other. “Been lookin’ that way to me, Ez, but I ain’t sayin’ no more ’n that. I could be wrong.” He laughed, remembering Josiah’s comment the night before when Ezra called him amusing company at the poker table. “But I kinda doubt it.”

Buck snorted. “You gotta be talkin’ about Nathan or Josiah, and ‘tween the two I reckon it must be Josiah. Nathan’s got him a stick up his ass, sure, but I’m pretty damned sure that’s all that’s been up there.”

Vin couldn’t help laughing at the way Ezra’s eyes widened, and a moment later Buck joined in the laughter while Ezra just stared at Buck like he had grown a second head.


	12. Chapter 12

Part 12

 

Chris shifted in Ezra’s usual chair just outside the saloon as he scowled at his boots, settling more comfortably with his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. His earlier good mood was gone and he laid the blame square on Buck’s hard head. Vin was always good company, but Ezra had been surprisingly nice to shoot the breeze with too and Chris found himself missing the easy conversation they were having before Buck stuck his nose in and left Chris’ morning all shot to hell. Well, afternoon, technically. He figured it had to be getting on towards one by now.

Buck’s obstinate nosiness was mightily wearing on his nerves, even though he understood the reasons behind it. He knew Buck didn’t like the idea of two men screwing around before the conversation wandered that way, and that the idea of three would be just that much worse, but he had been so amused at Vin and Ezra that he hadn’t wanted to shut them up. He could have avoided the fight with Buck if he had said a few words to divert the conversation, or even if he had just been more careful what he said himself, but he didn’t want to have to watch what he said around Buck. He’d seldom had to keep anything from his best friend, and the realization he might have to start hiding things more often wasn’t a welcome one.

The fact he hadn’t even considered sharing his bed – or Vin! – with anyone else until Buck got so upset about the idea didn’t matter in the least. If Chris and Vin felt like screwing around with Vin’s closest friend sometime, Chris felt like that was none of Buck’s business. They weren’t going to try and get Buck to join in, so Buck had no call be so upset over it. Ezra was a grown man that knew Chris and Vin had something permanent going on between them, and Chris knew Ezra well enough to know that if anything happened the gambler wouldn’t expect any more than they wanted to offer. Ezra was the type to enjoy what he could when the opportunity presented itself and count himself lucky to have been in the right place at the right time.

Possibly screwing around with a close friend that was inclined towards such a thing was a damned sight different from the relationship between Chris and Vin, and Chris was sure Ezra had known that long before Buck did, probably even before Chris himself. Ezra could have made a play for Vin a long time ago, after all, and Vin probably would have taken him up on it as sure as he had been that Chris wasn’t interested. That Ezra never had, and had in fact encouraged Vin towards Chris, said a lot to Chris about Ezra’s motives.

No, Chris wasn’t at all worried about any problems that Ezra’s feelings for Vin or himself might cause, or vice versa. Curious, sure, but not worried. He doubted seriously that Ezra’s affections for he or Vin had changed in the last few days, and Ezra was getting along with them better than ever as far as Chris could tell. He hadn’t seen any sign that Ezra wasn’t completely happy to see them together, and as far as Chris was concerned that put Ezra firmly on his side of the fence.

The only problem that Chris could see with _any_ of his friends at the moment was Buck, who was stubborn and annoying and just might get to meet Chris’ fist up close and personal if he kept making such an ass of himself. Nathan hadn’t seemed to notice anything worth asking about the day before at the Calhoun farm, and Josiah hadn’t commented on any changes in Chris or Vin at dinner the night before even though Chris figured he had been obvious enough Josiah would have noticed. All through that meal he kept catching himself smiling or even _smirking_ while just watching Vin, and he knew that was such an obvious change in him that any of his friends would notice.

Chris snorted softly to himself. Hiding how he felt about Vin had never been as hard as it was going to be, and Chris knew it. The more time they spent together alone the less Chris wanted to bother with hiding how he felt the rest of the time, but he knew that was a recipe for disaster. Sure, there was no law against it in the territory – not yet anyway – but public knowledge he was fucking another man was likely to get them both hung anyway, or at least horsewhipped and run out of town. A couple of years ago the idea of being forced to leave town wouldn’t have bothered him very much, but he and Vin had put a lot of hours into their place since then.

And Chris did consider it _their_ place, and had for a long time even though he hadn’t ever said as much to anyone before his annoyed rant at Buck’s stupidity. That was one thing Chris figured he _could_ publicly change, since it wasn’t that unusual for two close friends to go into the horse business together. The fact they only had two horses wouldn’t seem odd until they got the place fenced in, and by then Chris figured Vin would find them some young stock to work with. He had seen Vin eying horses a few times and figured that it wouldn’t take much more than a hint for Vin to start looking for a few head that needed broke out and trained. He had seen the attention Vin paid to Blue while they were on the trail and knew that if it weren’t for Danny and Lorrie needing her more Vin would have wanted to keep her. Vin hadn’t said anything about it, but Chris figured the mare’s markings and temperament teamed up with Vin’s background to make her just about irresistible to him.

Until the fences were up, they could start by adding onto the back of the cabin like he and Vin had been planning to do as soon as the barn was done. They just had the third box stall and then the five tie stalls by the feed room left to board up when the hardware store got in their next load of lumber, and then they could move on to getting the house the way they wanted it. The second bedroom would be ‘Vin’s’ for the benefit of any nosy neighbors – Nettie, Casey, and Mary sprang to mind as being sure to appear sooner or later – and it’d be somewhere for Ezra or one of the others to stay when they didn’t feel like the long ride back to town.

Thinking about the changes he and Vin intended to make to their place helped Chris to calm down, and he finally lifted his chin to look around after a few minutes. His gaze went first to Pony and Peso, who were dozing patiently side-by-side at the hitch rail even though their reins were just tossed over it. Vin seldom bothered to actually tie Peso anywhere because the rangy gelding was perfectly capable of biting through his reins or breaking a bridle whenever he felt like it, and Chris had taken to following Vin’s example with Pony. It saved time not to have to fight with untying his horse if they needed to ride in a hurry, and Pony was no more likely to stray than Peso was. Less likely, in fact. Pony was perfectly willing to stand and snooze just as long as Chris wanted him to, but Peso would get bored after an hour or two and start looking for some trouble to get into.

Pony shifted sleepily then, his hip bumping into Peso’s, and Chris had to smile at the affronted look on Peso’s face as he swung his muzzle to nip Pony’s neck. Pony didn’t move a muscle, not at all worried, and after another nip went ignored Peso heaved a put-upon sigh and settled right back down. Peso didn’t bother moving away, letting Pony lean against him even though any other horse would have gotten a swift kick for touching him.

Chris chuckled softly at them, wondering if Peso’s reluctant tolerance for Pony was motivated more by Pony’s easy-going but determined friendliness towards Peso or by Vin’s affection for Pony and his rider. He knew Peso was loyal enough to Vin to sometimes tolerate other horses or people just to please Vin, though Peso was seldom so cheerful about it as he was when it was Pony or Chris that he was tolerating. Peso liked to pretend he’d eat Pony for breakfast if the other gelding annoyed him, but Chris knew as well as Pony did that Peso was mostly bark with only a little bite, at least towards them. Other horses and people weren’t so lucky, especially Misty and Buck for some reason, but Pony was perfectly safe with Peso despite any appearances to the contrary.

Sudden laughter from Vin inside the saloon made Chris turn his head to glance towards the door, and a tension in his shoulders that he hadn’t even realized was there eased when Buck’s laugh joined in a moment later. He wasn’t naive enough to think that everything could be fixed with Buck in such a short time, but any progress was a good thing and Buck sounded sincerely amused.

Chris shifted in his chair, smiling slightly as he began to scan the street, which was still fairly empty because of the potluck lunch the town’s ladies held at the church the first Sunday of every month. He had hoped Vin and Ezra between them could straighten Buck out and explain away whatever was riding him, and it sounded like maybe they had. He hoped so, anyway. Buck was an ass and a half when he was confused over something, and Chris’ attempts to explain had been about as helpful as trying to teach a pig to sing.

Bucklin Wilmington could be the single most hardheaded man Chris knew when he wanted to be, except for Chris himself of course. Well, him and Vin. Chris knew he was about as hardheaded as they come, but every once in a while he thought Vin just might have him beat. There wasn’t much Vin thought was worth getting stubborn over, but when he did a six horse hitch couldn’t budge him.

A very familiar paint walked out of the alley that led to the meadow behind the church then, and Chris had to laugh at the way Danny twisted in Blue’s saddle to look behind him before he grinned and gave Blue her head. Blue leapt into a gallop up the nearly empty street with her head up and ears pricked, long white tail flagged as she weaved expertly around an empty buckboard and then passed a sleepy cowboy that was riding a shaggy little buckskin in the opposite direction.

Danny was grinning happily as he clung to the mare’s back like a burr, and he didn’t sit back to pull her up until the mare was passing Pony and Peso. The geldings both moved a bit and turned their heads to watch Blue go by just as Danny said, “Whoa, girl!”

Blue planted her back feet and slid a good fifteen feet to a stop, then tossed her head and let Danny wheel her back towards the saloon in as nice a rollback as Chris had seen in a while, her ears still pricked forward. She was obviously very pleased with herself and her rider as she practically pranced back towards the saloon, and Chris was glad all over again that Lorrie decided to let Danny keep her. The paint had a lot of heart and would have been an amazing mount for Vin, but Vin did have Peso and Blue was perfect for an active boy who loved to ride and was a natural in the saddle. She had the spirit to keep up with Danny and the willingness and brains to take good care of the boy until long after he was old enough not to need it anymore.

Peso directed a sour look at Blue when Danny guided her to stop near him, shifting closer to Pony as he pinned his ears, and Chris' lips twitched. If there was one kind of horse Peso didn’t like worth a damn, it was mares. As much as Peso might act like a stallion in other ways, he had absolutely no affection for anything female as far as Chris had seen. Vin said it was because Peso spent most of his life running with a bachelor herd until he was caught and gelded, but whatever it was, Peso never tried to hide it. Any mare that got too close to him was likely to be attacked if he was loose, and even if he wasn't he would fire off a kick or two if they got in range. Even women had to watch out if they tried to walk near Peso because Peso would bite a lady as soon as look at her, as Mary had often found out.

Chris grinned at Danny, trying not to laugh at the way Blue had dismissed Peso’s annoyance with just a flick of her ear. She wasn’t at all afraid of Peso, and hadn’t been since the second night after the outlaws were killed. Peso had tried to chase Blue off of her grain, and even hobbled Blue had charged him so suddenly and violently that Peso just about fell all over himself getting out of her way. Vin had laughed himself near _tears_ over it, and Peso’s disgruntled glare at his rider had left Chris with no doubt the mustang knew when he was being laughed at.

“Looks like you two got acquainted like I said.”

Danny nodded, beaming. “Yes sir! Ma let me take her for a ride this mornin’ early to go milk Mr. Rawlins’ cow. She’s _fast_ and she loves to run. I never made it to Mr. Rawlins’ place so quick!”

Chris laughed. “Just don’t be pushin’ her too hard, Danny. She’s the kind of horse that’ll run herself to death if you ask it of her. She shouldn’t go all-out much more than a couple miles unless it’s an emergency.”

Danny nodded quickly, looking a bit more serious even though he was still grinning. “I’ll be careful, Mr. Larabee, I promise. I wasn’t whipping her or anything, just letting her run like she wanted to. She was sweatin’ and blowin’ a little when we got there, but I walked her good and then made sure she jogged home nice and slow to cool down.” He stretched forward to rub Blue’s neck behind her ear and the mare leaned into it, cocking her head to the side like a big dog. “Pa always said it was about three miles, so I didn’t think it would be too far to let her run however she wanted.”

“Three miles won’t hurt her as long as you're not pushin' her,” Chris agreed, smiling at how much Blue obviously enjoyed Danny’s attention. Even a day had already brought her closer to the boy, and he was sure that given a month or two Blue would be just as loyal to her rider as Pony and Peso were to theirs. “Good for her even, to keep her in shape. She’s not like that wagon mare of your ma’s, used to slow work or standin’ around doing nothing most of the time. Blue’s worked for a livin’ and she’s the kind of horse that needs exercise.”

“Preacher said that the Cheyenne and Sioux tell _legends_ about horses like Blue,” Danny said then, looking interested and curious. “He said they call ‘em medicine hats and think they’re the best war ponies ever, but he didn’t have time to tell me any more before Ma shooed me off and said to stop pesterin’ him. Do you know anything about them, Mr. Larabee?”

“Vin’d be the one to ask about that,” Chris said, chuckling slightly. “I know one or two stories about a particular medicine hat that did something special, but not much about the legends.”

“I’ll ask him then,” Danny agreed quickly. “He knows all kinds of stuff about Indians, doesn’t he Mr. Larabee?”

“He sure does, Danny. I can’t guarantee anything about the Sioux, but there ain’t much worth knowing about the southwestern tribes that Vin can’t tell you.” Chris grinned at Danny, adding, “Providin’ you can get him in a storytelling mood. He’s pretty good at it when he wants to be, but he’s good at keepin’ his mouth shut, too.”

“Who’re we talking about?” Buck asked cheerfully, walking out of the saloon.

Chris looked up and was glad to see that Vin and Ezra were right behind Buck and that all three were looking relaxed and pleased about something. He figured that whatever had been eating at Buck was done with for the moment, and was glad that he had Vin and Ezra to handle that kind of thing for him. He sure wasn’t any good at it. “I was just tellin’ Danny here that Vin’s good at storytelling,” Chris said, grinning up at Buck. “He wants to hear the legends about medicine hats. Josiah mentioned ‘em to him and got his curiosity goin’.”

Buck laughed and moved to take a seat in one of the other chairs on the porch. “Definitely Vin’s territory. I don’t know much more about ‘em than the fact an Injun will trade everything he’s got for a paint pony marked up like that one, and maybe steal his brother’s stuff to throw in on the deal.”

Vin snickered and shifted slightly into a comfortable slouch between Chris and Ezra, who was watching and listening with amusement. “Knew a Comanche just after the war who traded his wife and a good spotted buffalo pony for a medicine hat colt barely old enough to ride. Grey Badger went around camp boastin’ about how he’d gotten the best of the deal right up until the first time he hopped on the horse. He hadn’t even got set good before that colt was leapin’ and twistin’ like a peyote-crazed jackrabbit, an’ about the third jump he left Grey Badger spinnin’ a good ten feet up in the air. That colt was hightailin’ it out of camp before Grey Badger even hit the ground an’ we never did catch him again.” He grinned suddenly. “Saw him twice since, though, runnin’ with a herd of mustang mares over Texas way, in the Palo Duro country. He’s kind of hard to forget, pure white except for black ears and a roany patch on his chest shaped kinda like a bear track.”

“Wow,” Danny said, wide-eyed. “I’m glad Blue’s nothin’ like that!”

Vin laughed. “She’d be a handful if she was even half as much of a bronc as that colt, Danny. He was a good hand shorter and built lighter, too, and still threw Grey Badger higher ’n the top of his lodge.”

Chris snickered, tipping his head back to look up at Vin. “Sounds like when Peso threw you a while back.”

Vin grinned at Chris. “A lot like that. Took Peso more work to get rid of me, though.”

Chris smirked and shook his head. “Not the way I recall it.”

Buck grinned widely as he added, “If I remember right, he sent you reachin’ for the moon after just four jumps.”

“He was leapin’ high enough I could see into the loft of the livery!” Vin protested, laughing. “If I ever find out who tied them firecrackers to his tail, they’re gonna be in for a world of hurt.”

Danny started giggling as Ezra smirked and said cheerfully, “I do believe that was our very own sheriff.”

Vin looked at Ezra, eyes widening. “Which one?”

Ezra’s smirk widened, his gaze flicking towards Buck. “I think I’ve said enough.”

“So do I!” Buck said quickly, laughing, and when Chris looked over Buck’s way he had to laugh too. Buck looked guilty as hell, but not the least bit sorry.

Vin started towards Buck. “You are _dead_ , Wilmington! I’m gonna scalp you and leave your sorry carcass for the buzzards!”

Buck jumped up and started backing away down the boardwalk, laughing. “Aw, now come on, Vin! You don’t wanna do that! Not to me! I’m one of your friends! It was just a little joke!”

“Joke my ass!” Vin exclaimed, darting suddenly towards Buck. “You coulda got me killed! Peso kicked me ever’ time I went to get on him for _days_!”

Buck bolted across the street, his longer legs helping him stay ahead of Vin, and Chris snickered. “You better run faster, Buck!” he called, grinning. “Vin’s right behind you!”

Ezra chuckled and settled into the chair Buck had been in, smirking. “Running faster won’t do him any good. Vin is quite capable of running _farther_.”

Chris grinned at Ezra. “I know. I’ve outrun Buck a time or two and I don’t have a prayer of outrunnin’ Vin. I might be able to get out of reach in a sprint, but he’d catch me before long. He can run a hell of a lot longer than I care to.”

Running feet hit the boardwalk in the opposite direction from the way Buck and Vin took off, and Chris looked that way just as Billy Travis hollered, “Danny! Wait for me!”

Chris glanced at Danny and had to work at it not to laugh at the way Danny rolled his eyes.

“I’m just sittin’ here, Billy!” Danny called back, exasperated. “It’s not my fault you got in trouble and your ma won’t let you ride with me.”

Billy pounded up and jumped off the boardwalk to stand close to Blue’s shoulder and look up at Danny, grinning and holding up one hand to the other boy. “Momma’s not watching now, Danny. Give me a hand up.”

Danny snorted and moved Blue a step away from Billy with a touch of his heels. “No way! I’m not gettin’ in trouble too, I just got my mare and I _like_ to ride! You can walk. It’s not that far to the field where Mr. Tanner’s friends do their target shooting.”

Billy groaned and moved to flop down on the edge of the boardwalk, scowling. “It’s not _fair_ that Momma won’t let me have my own horse. I’m almost as old as you, and _two years_ older than Jimmy is.”

Danny snickered. “If you want your own horse, you’ve been goin' about it all wrong. You just got in trouble for borrowin’ Jimmy’s pony and letting it stray, remember?”

Billy sighed, pouting. “How could I forget? I only get free time today ‘cause it’s Sunday. Tomorrow I’ve got to go back to work.”

Danny grinned. “I bet you don’t tie Robin by his reins again.”

“I didn’t then!” Billy protested. “I tied him with his halter and hung the bridle on the saddle with my clothes, and he got loose while I was swimming! I looked up and there was his halter still tied to the tree and he was long gone.”

Danny snickered and patted Blue’s neck. “You should’ve hobbled Robin, he’d never get out of that.”

Chris glanced at Ezra, amused. “Sounds familiar.”

Ezra smirked, green eyes sparkling. “Yes, it rather reminds me of the last time Mr. Dunne went swimming, when Dancer tired of waiting and came back to the livery without him.”

Chris laughed and nodded. “And with JD’s clothes still draped over his saddle, too. Buck’ll never let him live that down.”

“Speaking of Mr. Wilmington,” Ezra said, amused, “Vin chased him into the livery and has surely cornered him by now. Should we go lend a hand?”

Chris grinned and shook his head. “Vin can handle Buck.”

Ezra laughed. “I meant to aid Mr. Wilmington.”

“Eh, he’s been askin’ for it,” Chris said, still grinning. “Vin won’t hurt him. Much.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

Buck ducked into the livery, breathing hard and holding the stitch his side he had from laughing and trying to outrun Vin. Longer legs helped, but Vin was unfairly quick on his feet. He ran towards the back of the barn, glancing over his shoulder just as Vin stopped in the doorway.

“You might as well give up now,” Vin said, stepping inside and closing the door before he stalked after Buck. “There’s only one way in or out, and I ain’t lettin’ you get back by me.”

Buck turned and started backing away from Vin, laughing and holding out one hand as if to fend him off, the other still clutching at his side. “Aw, now come on, Vin. You woulda laughed if it was Dancer I tied the firecrackers on.”

Vin snorted and stopped in the middle of the barn, trying hard to scowl even though Buck could tell by the sparkle in Vin’s eyes that he wanted to laugh. He was barely breathing hard even though Buck was gasping like a landed fish, and it made Buck want to kick him right in the ass. The scrawny tracker never seemed to do anything but ride that crazy gelding of his or sit around watching people and yet he was still in better shape than Buck was. It was so unfair.

“Dancer’s not liable to go berserk and kill someone,” Vin pointed out, “so yeah, I likely would have. Peso’s a whole ‘nother story and you know it. He's killed more 'n one man for less reason.”

“He didn’t hurt nothin’ but your pride though, Vin,” Buck said quickly, grinning and trying his damnedest to pour on the charm. “Just a little mud and a few bruises.”

“Could have broke my neck, though.” Vin folded his arms across his chest and leaned to the side slightly, standing hipshot. “Give me a good reason not to kick your ass an’ I’ll think about it.”

Buck laughed. “You and whose army?”

Vin’s eyes narrowed and he started forward again, and Buck swallowed hard when he realized Vin’s eyes didn’t look like he wanted to laugh anymore. “If that’s the way you want it, Bucklin.”

Buck stood and waited for Vin to get just out of reach, then dodged to the left, waiting for Vin to follow before he switched directions and tried to bolt past on the other side. Vin hit him in the knees and they both went down, and Buck hardly knew what had happened before he found himself pinned face down in the dirt with a clod of manure about three inches from his nose, his hat a few feet away. Vin was kneeling on his shoulders and sitting on his back, much heavier than Buck would have expected as scrawny as Vin looked. Vin’s spurs were pressed against Buck’s ribs just hard enough for Buck to feel them against his clothes, and when he tried to shift away they dug in a bit closer to make him hold still.

“Aw Vin, you know you don’t really want to hurt me—“

Vin’s knife appeared in front of Buck’s eyes. “I don’t? You sure about that, Buck?”

Buck went wide-eyed and froze. “Whoa there! Can’t we talk about this without the knife?” He had seen Vin lop a guy’s hand off with that knife once in a fight that got too up close and personal for guns. The knife had gone through the wrist like it was butter, and then there was blood squirtin’ everywhere until Chris put a bullet between the poor bastard's eyes. Buck wasn't sure if Chris did it to stop the screaming or because the idiot had gone after Vin with a knife and managed to cut him up some, but either way he knew Vin's knife was frighteningly sharp.

“I got the feelin’ you weren’t listenin’ to me,” Vin said, and damned if he didn’t sound like he was _amused_.

“Vin...” Buck felt Vin’s fingers tangle in his hair and then flinched as Vin pulled his head back even though Vin didn’t really pull that hard. The knife moved towards his forehead then and Buck felt the beginnings of panic as he tried to throw Vin off only to feel the spurs dig in harder.

“Don’t make me use my spurs, Buck.” Vin warned. “You wouldn’t like it none at all.”

Buck felt the knife touch his forehead just below his hairline and stopped moving as he remembered Vin threatening to scalp him. He could get loose, he was sure, but he wasn’t sure it would be worth it, especially if he made Vin’s hand slip on that machete of his. An accidental cut from the big blade would likely do some serious damage, and it’d be no one’s fault but his. As long as Buck didn’t move and jostle him, Vin could control that knife better than a surgeon. He knew Vin probably wouldn’t hurt him, or at least he _hoped_ Vin wouldn’t hurt him. He was suddenly feeling kind of worried though, and sure it showed in his voice even though he tried to sound reasonable as he said, “Vin, come on, get offa me. Enough is enough, now. Nobody got hurt.”

“I seem to recall it hurtin’ to get thrown into the side of the livery, an’ it took me _hours_ to get the mud out of my clothes and my gun.” Vin snorted again and then added, “And that ain’t even talkin’ about how many times I got kicked or bit the next week when I tried to do anything with Peso. He took it out on me ever’ chance he got.”

Buck would have cringed if he weren't afraid to move. He’d been on the receiving end of Peso’s displeasure before and knew the rangy mustang could inflict some serious pain. Peso seemed to know just where to grab a body to make it _hurt_. “It wasn’t one of my best ideas, I got to admit that.”

“It’s about time,” Vin said, and suddenly the knife wasn’t touching Buck’s forehead anymore. Vin pulled his hair to make Buck turn his head, and he found himself almost nose to nose with Vin, whose blue eyes looked very serious and intent. “I want your word you’ll never tie anythin’ that _blows up_ to a horse again, Bucklin.”

Buck smiled a bit at Vin, feeling very sheepish and even a little remorseful. “I promise. No more firecrackers, no dynamite, nothing like that. And I won’t piss Peso off at all anymore, not on purpose.” He was never going to screw around with Vin or that damned horse of his again. He’d stick to pranking JD, who just yelled and maybe punched him a bit instead of reaching for a pigsticker with a blade the better part of a foot long.

Vin just stared into Buck’s eyes a few moments and then the spurs poking into Buck’s sides shifted and Vin loosened his grip on Buck’s hair. “I guess that’ll do.” Vin let go of Buck’s hair and stood, moving away from Buck a few feet as he threatened, “But next time you pull anythin’ like that on me you’re gonna pay hard, you hear me?”

Buck rolled over and got to his feet, picking up his hat and then brushing dirt off of his clothes and trying not to show just how relieved he was feeling as he muttered, “Yeah, yeah, I hear you. You’re gonna scalp me.”

Vin snorted. “No, I’m gonna make you _wish_ I scalped you.”

Buck looked warily at Vin, dusting off his hat. “I almost afraid to ask how.”

Vin walked right up into Buck’s personal space and looked up at him with a sudden smirk, blue eyes sparkling with a wicked light that made Buck feel decidedly nervous as Vin murmured, “You should be.”

Vin sidestepped around Buck and walked out of the livery, and Buck just turned to watch him go, wide-eyed. He _couldn’t_ have meant what Buck thought he did.

Could he?


	13. Chapter 13

Part 13

 

It was all Vin could do not to start laughing until he got far enough from the livery that he didn’t think Buck would hear him. He went first to the jail for the carbine and then headed back to the saloon. He was still snickering a bit as he crossed the street, having to stop several times to let people pass because the potluck was over. He walked up between Blue and Peso a few moments later and reached for Peso’s reins with his free hand, giving Chris a wink. There were a few people in the saloon finally, and Vin could see Inez through the front window, making the rounds with the coffee pot and several mugs.

Chris smirked, lifting a mug of fresh coffee in a salute as he teased, “Glad to see you in one piece.”

Ezra’s lips twitched. “I trust that Mr. Wilmington survived as well.”

“You trust right, but he wasn’t too sure he would for a minute there,” Vin said, trying not to laugh again as he remembered the way Buck froze when the back of his knife touched Buck’s forehead. He looked up at Danny, grinning as he flipped Peso’s reins around the black gelding’s neck where they belonged. “You ready, Danny?”

Danny beamed and nodded rapidly. “I sure am!”

Vin turned his attention over towards Billy, who was sitting on the edge of the boardwalk pouting. “What about you?”

Billy nodded quickly and looked hopeful. “Can I ride out to the field with you, Vin?”

“Sorry Billy, Peso don't like carryin' double. You know how he is.”

In truth Peso would likely tolerate it if Vin sweet-talked him a little, but Vin wasn’t about to put a child – especially Mary Travis’ boy! – on his sometimes-unpredictable gelding. Mary was scared half to death of Peso because he snapped or kicked at her whenever she got within five feet of him. If she caught so much as a glimpse of Billy on him, even with Vin to keep Peso under control, she’d likely try to get Vin arrested for attempted murder. Mary had made it plain more than once that she thought Peso was dangerous and should be kept locked up for the safety of the town’s children even though Peso hadn’t hurt a child since Vin first dropped a rope on him. Peso had done some damage to just about every other living thing Vin could think of over the years, from people on down to a rabbit that tried to steal the gelding’s grain once and got a hoof to the head for its stupidity, but Peso had never even _tried_ to hurt a child. The rabbit had been good eating though, as had a few snakes that got too close to Peso over the years.

Billy sighed and drooped. “Rats. You’ll be done by the time I can get there, then.”

Chris chuckled and finished his coffee, then stood. “I’ll give you a ride, Billy. Your ma won’t fuss about that, and if she does you just tell her to take it up with me. I reckon you need to know how to use a gun near as bad as Danny does.”

Billy brightened and jumped up, looking up at Chris. “Would you really?!”

“Said I would, didn’t I?” Chris asked, smiling at Billy as he started towards the horses.

“Thank you, Chris!” Billy hurried to follow Chris, grinning from ear to ear.

Vin grinned and swung up into Peso’s saddle, then backed him away from Pony and Blue far enough to give Billy room to approach Pony without getting too close to Peso, just in case Mary should happen by. She always turned up when he least expected her to, and recently she always seemed to be looking to find fault with Peso and Vin’s handling of him. “Thanks, Chris. Mary’s not near so likely to breathe fire over you takin’ him out there.”

Chris reached out to grab Peso’s reins, ignoring the dirty look Peso gave him and feeding Peso a bit of biscuit with his free hand before he began stroking Peso’s face. “C’mon, Billy. I’ll keep Peso occupied while you mount up.” He grinned up at Vin then and teased, “And you’re just scared stiff of her, is all.”

“I sure am,” Vin agreed, laughing. He wasn’t at all surprised Peso took the treat and tolerated Chris petting him, though he doubted anyone else could get away with touching Peso's head while Vin was on him. “She’s as protective as a grizzly with new cubs, and don’t like Peso even a little even since he pinched her that last time.”

That particular time Peso had acted docile and waited until Mary wasn’t paying any attention at all to him, and then he grabbed a mouthful of skirts, including enough rump to make Mary’s scream and then bawl like a baby. If she had been carrying a gun then, Vin was pretty sure she would have shot Peso right there in the street. As it was he and Peso were both very lucky that looks couldn’t kill. She had glared every time she saw them for over a week afterwards, and still refused to approach Peso even when someone was between her and the ornery mustang.

Chris snickered and patted Peso’s neck, glancing over his shoulder to see if Billy was in the saddle yet. Billy had made it as far as getting his foot into the stirrup, which was a real accomplishment considering the stirrup was higher than his waist, but he couldn’t quite pull himself up. Pony was standing patiently to let him try though, braced and watching the boy out of the corner of his eye, and Vin thought not for the first time that Pony would have been a good horse for Adam if things had been different. Pony was one of the most patient horses Vin had ever known.

Chris let go of Peso to go help Billy, lifting the boy into the saddle with a soft grunt of effort. “You’re almost too heavy to toss up there anymore, son. You’re gonna have to learn to do it on your own pretty soon.”

Billy grinned at Chris, scooting as far forward in the saddle as he could and lifting his foot out of Chris’ way. “Can I practice on Pony?”

Chris laughed and gathered Pony’s reins, nodding. “If your ma says it’s okay. He’ll be here in town anyway most days, and he’s just about the safest you’re gonna find to climb on except Seeker.”

Josiah’s chestnut was born and raised in a Cherokee village, and Seeker had learned as a colt to tolerate anything a child might do from braiding flowers in his tail to climbing him like a tree. Seeker loved attention and was sweet and calm as the day is long, always willing to make a new friend or watch over a horse-crazy child. Seeker had proven himself to be an able and willing babysitter, letting the kids play with him while their mothers relaxed and gossiped. There were a dozen children who doted on the laid-back gelding and played with him often in his pasture back behind the church, and most of the ladies in town adored him almost as much as they liked his rider. Every Sunday morning without fail one of the children would move Seeker's bucket into the meadow near his corral, and by the time service was over it would be overflowing with treats for Seeker that would last him until the next Sunday.

Billy beamed. “Thanks!”

Chris just grinned and swung up behind Billy, and they took a moment to get situated more comfortably before Chris looked at Vin and Danny, grinning. “Well, what are we waitin’ for?”

Vin laughed and looked at Ezra, tipping his hat to him. “See you later, Ez. Don’t get too bored waitin’ ‘round for us.”

Ezra looked amused as he waved one hand dismissively, sprawled comfortably in his favorite chair. It hadn’t taken him two heartbeats after Chris vacated the chair to reclaim it, and Vin knew Ezra wouldn’t be giving it up until there were enough people in the saloon to get a poker game going. “Go, enjoy your marksmanship lessons. I have no doubt that I will find something to occupy my afternoon.”

“Fleecing some unsuspecting cowboy, no doubt!” Gloria Potter said, walking up on the far side of Pony. She looked amused as she climbed up on the boardwalk and gave Ezra a fond smile, then turned towards Chris and Vin and the two boys. “Have fun boys, but do be careful. A rifle is not a toy.”

“They’ll be careful, Miz Gloria,” Vin promised, smiling and tipping his hat to her. “There won’t be any playin’ around, I promise.”

Seeing Gloria reminded Vin that he needed to go out hunting again soon. It had been a while since he made sure she had fresh game, and he figured kids needed variety. Gloria couldn’t leave her responsibilities to hunt and needed her son's help with the store too, so Vin tried to do his part to be sure her youngsters got something besides the beef or chicken that was available in town. He and Chris couldn’t finish off a deer before it spoiled without help anyway, and it was usually no trouble to get a few extra rabbits or sage hens. Game was plentiful in the hills yet, and he seldom saw sign that anyone else had been hunting out towards the ranch.

Chris grinned at Gloria and nodded, also tipping his hat. “You have a good day, ma’am.”

Danny was quick to copy them with his own hat, but Billy wasn’t wearing one so he settled for just giving Gloria a wave as Chris turned Pony to head towards the west end of town. Peso moved after Pony without any urging, and Danny pulled Blue to one side to let Pony and Peso pass before he followed them.

Gloria turned to Ezra as they walked away. “Now, Ezra, about the social next weekend...”

Vin snickered at Ezra’s theatrical groan as they moved out of earshot, and Chris looked over at him, grinning. Vin winked at Chris and let Peso leap ahead into an easy canter, and Chris laughed softly as he heeled Pony after them. Blue followed right on Pony’s heels without any urging from Danny, used to traveling with the two black geldings after the time she had spent with them on the trail.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Buck watched Vin leave the livery and then just stared at the door, trying to decide if Vin had really hinted at what he thought he did.

Given the choice between being scalped and Vin doing something more personal to him, Buck figured he just might prefer the scalping. He’d forget all about a scar in a week or two, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t forget it so quick if Vin decided to introduce him to whatever it was Vin had done that had turned Chris’ head so completely. Vin had to be pretty good at it, going by the way Chris was grinning at everyone, and he was one _flexible_ little shit. He could probably bend in ways that would make —

Lord God Almighty, he was thinking about what Vin Tanner was like in bed!

Buck turned to walk quickly towards Misty’s stall, shaking his head. He _had_ to let it be. The only way he was going to keep his sanity was to keep his nose right out of it. Buck hadn’t ever been one for the kind of thing Chris and Vin had been doing, and that wasn’t changing anytime soon. Chris was right, it was their row to hoe and that’d have to be the end of it for him, no matter how much he cared about Chris.

He slipped into the stall with Misty and smiled at the way she nuzzled at his cheek, knocking his hat back to hang from the stampede string. “Hello, pretty lady,” he murmured with a smile, fishing a chunk of candy out of his vest pocket to feed to her. “Been enjoying your time off?” Misty munched on the candy, nodding her head with each bite, and he patted her neck. “Figured you were.”

Buck moved to the back of the stall to retrieve the brush and hoof pick he always left tucked into the corner under the feed trough. He unwrapped the rag that was around the brush to keep it from getting full of hay and laid it and the hoof pick in the wooden trough, then turned back to Misty. She had followed him and was watching with her ears up from only a foot or two away, and he had to chuckle softly as he reached up to rub her forehead.

“You’re darn near as spoiled as Pony is, old girl,” he murmured with a smile, letting Misty nuzzle his cheek again. He moved to her shoulder and began running the brush over her silvery dappled coat, following each swipe with his free hand as much because he enjoyed petting her as because he knew she liked it. “Next you’ll be expectin’ me to add molasses to your feed and buy you apples.”

Misty let out a deep sigh as she relaxed to enjoy the attention, her head lowering as she shifted to stand hipshot with one hind hoof barely touching the ground.

Buck grinned and kept brushing her, glad of a reason to just _do something_ and not have to think so much. Thinking kept getting him into trouble, and he’d had more than enough for the day.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Josiah smiled warmly at Mary and Lorrie and waved to them as they left in Lorrie’s buckboard, then let out a relieved breath and relaxed. He was _finally_ alone again, and while it wasn’t exactly quiet behind the church with the town’s main street so nearby, it was much quieter than it had been. He moved around the picnic tables, checking to be sure nothing had been dropped or left behind as the ladies packed up, then headed for the corral across the empty meadow where people from outside town usually parked for Sunday services.

Josiah’s long strides ate up the distance and it wasn’t long before he was grabbing a dried apple slice from the bucket outside the corral and then slipping between the rails. He often left the gate open for Seeker to graze the meadow freely, but on Sundays he always left the placid gelding a pile of hay to keep him occupied out of the way. The corral was just saplings lashed to posts and not very large, barely thirty paces on a side. The lean-to in the corral was rough at best, but it kept off the rain and Seeker seldom wanted more than that. Seeker, like his rider, was perfectly at home sleeping under the stars and didn’t take well to being cooped up without reason.

Seeker greeted Josiah with a soft nicker and walked over to say hello while Foxy stood in the shade of the lean-to, ignoring them. Foxy was seldom friendly so it was no surprise for her to stay aloof, even welcome. Seeker was usually affectionate unless another horse pushed him away, and Josiah enjoyed not having any competition for the gelding’s attention.

Josiah offered the apple slice to Seeker, feeding it to the sorrel while he stepped in close, smiling. “Hello, old friend.” Seeker lipped up the apple and then nuzzled Josiah while he ate, and Josiah chuckled softly as he stroked Seeker’s face. “Foxy treating you good?”

Seeker didn’t seem to listen, just leaning closer and enjoying Josiah’s hands sliding over all the places he most liked to be petted, and Josiah smiled as he looked the gelding over. He didn’t see any fresh bite marks or hoof prints, so he supposed that Foxy was finally behaving herself for the most part. Hopefully she had gotten used to the idea of sharing Seeker’s corral, but if not Josiah knew she would settle down in time. Nathan had kept her in a shed of her own behind the livery for quite a long time, after all, and some horses adjusted to change slowly.

Foxy would likely still be there if the little barn hadn’t been torn down to make room for the lumber barn that Virgil Watson was putting in to cope with all the building around town. People were building homes and stores, Mary was rallying support for a school, and the Smith brothers were even putting up a third livery barn with sixteen stalls. Four Corners was growing much more quickly than anyone had expected now that the railroad passed just outside of town, and Virgil needed somewhere to store more wood so he could keep up with the demand.

“Though that may not necessarily be a good thing,” Josiah murmured softly, speaking a portion of his thoughts as he often did when he was alone with Seeker. He had one hand on Seeker’s jaw, the other slowly stroking the sorrel gelding’s face while Seeker leaned against him contentedly. “With civilization comes civilized people and all the troubles they bring, my friend, and we all could do better without those, I think.”

Josiah had overheard quite a bit of gossip during the potluck and much of it was still fresh in his mind, especially the spirited discussion concerning their local sheriff. Some of the newer arrivals in town wanted to elect someone to take over the peacekeeping duties in town, spurred on by Buck’s reputation and the way he had made a habit of lounging around the front of the jail watching the ladies go by. Several of the pretty young girls in the area had parents who were annoyed at Buck for noticing their teenaged daughters, despite the fact Buck never did anything but smile at the younger ladies and possibly tease them about fending off their beaus.

Mary had surprised Josiah by being one of those who wanted to see Buck replaced, though more because he had thought she learned something from Bryce and all the problems that had followed the man than because he thought her particularly tolerant of Buck’s roving eye. Mary made no secret of her dislike of ‘working girls’ as she so primly termed them, and Bucklin was just as vocal about his adoration of them. It was common knowledge that many of the local saloon girls and two of the ladies who worked at the hotel were also earning a little money on the side from lonely men, and Mary blamed it firmly on Buck for encouraging them.

Discussion of Buck’s idling in front of the jail led to talk of the fact the rest of the Seven seemed to spend a lot of their time lounging around on the boardwalk or in ‘their’ saloon, and many of the newer settlers disapproved. It was easier than it should have been for Kevin Tucker, the man who suggested telling the Seven all to step down, to convince the new people that the Seven should be freed of their duties at the jail to better protect the entire area. He maintained that a sheriff and a deputy were all that Four Corners needed for the town anymore, and entirely too many people agreed with him.

Josiah would have stepped in then to point out what happened the last time the Seven left town, but Gloria Potter and Lorrie Calhoun had beaten him to it. They had pointed out that when there _was_ trouble it was hard to find men on patrol to get help, but if a few of the Seven were in town then they could respond immediately. Inez, Virgil, and a dozen other long-time residents had finally added their two cents worth in a few minutes later, each telling the newer townspeople of incidents when all of the Seven were needed to protect the town. Mary had added her voice to that chorus eventually, though it seemed a bit belated and entirely too reluctant to Josiah.

Twenty minutes later, the idea of changing the deal with the Seven was finally dismissed, though the election of a sheriff was slated for July. Mary and Gloria had nominated JD for the job already, and support for the boy seemed to be strong so Josiah didn’t intend to worry about the outcome of the elections just yet. Four Corners was unlikely to be the same in a few weeks, much less a few months, and the town might be so different by July that the Seven would _want_ to ride out. There was really little to hold them if the townspeople stopped needing their aid, and each time the Seven had split up had gone badly enough that Josiah felt they would hold together should they ever need to move on.

Thinking about the Seven staying together reminded Josiah of changes he had noticed the night before, and he smiled at further proof of how quickly things could change. Just a week ago he had wondered if Chris would ever realize what was staring him in the face, but after his meal with Chris and Vin in the saloon the night before he was confident that Chris finally knew how Vin felt about him. Chris had spared little attention for anyone but Vin throughout the meal, and the frequent amused looks Vin gave their fearless leader had been tinged with a warmth Vin had seldom dared to show in the past unless Chris’ back was turned.

Josiah chuckled softly and looked at Seeker, stroking the sorrel’s soft muzzle as he murmured, “It took them long enough, didn’t it? I have never known another man so content to ignore the nose on his face as those two are.” He let out a soft snort that was more a laugh. “Though Ezra does come in a very close third, for a fact.”

Josiah still wasn’t completely sure of Ezra’s inclinations, but he had been pleased to notice Ezra was so obviously amused by Chris’ behavior. His own tastes were many and varied, but he hadn’t indulged his less socially acceptable appetites since he joined the Seven for that fight in the Seminole village. He had suspected Vin’s inclinations were towards men soon after meeting him because of Vin’s complete lack of interest in the ladies from Wickes Town, but he had still kept his own flexible tastes to himself. Vin’s acceptance was almost assured – the native tribes Vin had obviously spent so much time with didn’t see sexual relationships in the same light as so many white cultures did – but Vin himself was as wary as a deer scenting wolves and that encouraged Josiah to follow Vin's instinct and hide his own flexible inclinations.

Josiah had suspected Ezra’s tastes ran more towards the male end of the spectrum for much of their acquaintance as well, but Ezra was such a private man that Josiah truly had little to go on other than the fact Ezra always slept alone. Given the gambler’s distrust of anyone entering his bedchamber, the lack of sleeping companions could easily be explained away, which had left Josiah subtly testing the waters for quite some time. Vin’s amusement at his flirting had reinforced Josiah’s opinion of Ezra’s inclinations, as had Ezra’s occasional surprise. So little truly surprised Ezra that Josiah took more pleasure in doing so than was likely good for either of them.

Josiah had no doubt Vin enjoyed the teasing exchanges between he and Ezra, as much because of Ezra’s surprise as anything else. Their other friends might not pay attention to Vin’s subtle flickers of expression, often leading them to accuse Chris of reading the tracker’s mind, but Josiah knew better. He had been cultivating an awareness of Vin for quite some time in an attempt to decipher that silent language between Chris and Vin, and learned quite a lot about Vin without either of them saying a word. Josiah had realized quite some time ago that Vin returned Chris’ interest in him, and had often wondered how they could spend so much time watching each other without seeing what was so plain to him.

Chris seemed to be Vin’s only blind spot though, and very little missed his attention when the others were lounging around the saloon passing time. Vin was a master of the art of hiding in plain sight, observing without being noticed, and often those observations said a lot about what Vin himself was thinking. Watching Vin had often brought Josiah’s attention to some subtle clue that led Josiah to better understanding of their friends, focusing him on whoever needed a sympathetic ear or a subtle nudge towards a decision they hesitated to make. Vin’s attention could usually be counted on to settle on who was talking at the moment, and when it didn’t it was often worth taking a second look himself at whoever had caught Vin’s eye.

Josiah smirked. “Unless of course that someone is Chris,” he murmured, sliding his hand up Seeker’s forehead. He gave the gelding a final pat and then turned away, speaking as he moved to the rails to slip out of the corral again. “I’ll come back this evening and give you a good rub down.”

Seeker’s ears pricked up and he followed Josiah to the fence, leaning over it when Josiah straightened on the other side. Josiah smiled and took Seeker’s face between his hands. “I find myself in the mood for some human companionship, old friend. You would find the saloon to be poor replacement for your corral.” He rested his forehead against Seeker’s a moment and then released the gelding and turned away, walking quickly along the alley that ran behind most of the buildings on main street, humming softly to himself.

There was little chance anyone would recognize the tune even if they heard it. Music was definitely _not_ one of his talents.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

Part 14

 

Peso and Pony grazed side-by side in the deep grass along a narrow creek that would dry up as soon as the real summer heat began, both of them still saddled even though their bridles hung from their saddle horns. Neither gelding was hobbled or tethered in any way because they would stay within sight of their riders, and Pony would come when he was called. Peso might or might not come when Vin whistled, depending on his mood, but he at least wouldn’t run away.

Blue was grazing hobbled nearby, lifting her head to look towards her rider occasionally but otherwise not seeming to care about the sound of shooting as Vin and the boys worked with the carbine. She probably would have stayed even without the hobbles, but Chris and Vin hadn’t wanted Danny to trust in that until the mare had longer to get used to her young rider. Blue was fast and had almost as much bottom as Peso, and Chris and Vin wanted no part of having to run her down if they were wrong and she decided to bolt.

Chris turned his attention from the horses back towards Vin and the two boys, smiling as he got a bit more comfortable against his tree. As far as he was concerned, Vin was doing a damned good job of teaching Billy and Danny all they needed to know about the care and usage of a Winchester carbine. He had shown them how to load and unload it, how to check it for ammunition and tell how many shells were in the loading tube, and how to clean it. They had learned how to hold the empty rifle when they carried it, when they rode, and when they fired, and Vin had made sure both boys understood you never point a gun, even one you don’t think is loaded, at anyone you don’t intend to shoot.

Billy wasn’t allowed to shoot so Vin had fired several times with Billy watching closely, and then he quizzed Billy until he was sure the boy knew exactly how to handle a gun if he needed to. Danny finally got his turn then, and soon Billy was standing back a few feet and watching while Danny took careful aim on the cans and fired. Danny was a terrible shot at first because he couldn’t quite get his eye lined up with the rifle, and Vin wound up having Danny switch sides with the rifle to try the other eye. That went a lot better, and it wasn’t too long before Danny was hitting the cans as often as he missed. They were only thirty feet from where the boys stood, and Chris knew that Vin could use the same carbine and hit the cans from a hundred yards easy, but it was a real accomplishment for Danny.

Chris heard a horse and buggy on the nearby trail but he ignored it until he heard the horse leave the trail. He turned his head to look then and had to stifle a groan. Just his luck, the one person he least wanted to see at the moment. Well, except for Buck. He just was not up to trying to tiptoe around either one of them, not when he had finally been enjoying himself again, dammit.

“Good afternoon, Chris,” Mary Travis called with a warm smile, trotting her buggy horse right up to stop the chestnut gelding less than five feet from Chris. The gelding snorted and stood fairly quietly, but his ears were pinned and his posture gave away how tense and annoyed he was. “I came out to see how things are going.”

“Afternoon.” Chris tipped his hat to her slightly but made no move to get up, glad that it had rained so much recently. If it hadn’t, he would have been choking on dust, as close up as Mary ran that buggy horse of hers. The woman was always doing things like that and pretending not to notice when she left people coughing and choking in her wake. “It’s goin’ fine, Mary, but you oughta let Billy shoot too. Boy’s old enough he needs to know.”

Mary’s smile shifted into a firmer look. “Thank you for your advice, Mr. Larabee, but I can’t agree. I don’t want Billy to grow up thinking he can find his answers in a gun.”

Chris snorted at so quickly becoming Mr. Larabee again and looked away from Mary to watch Vin with the boys, trying to ignore the urge to jump up and stalk away. If he did she’d probably just climb out of the buggy to follow him, and then she’d give him a guilt trip for making her do it. He was better off just sitting where he was until she left again. She had such a short attention span for anything she didn’t consider important that he knew it wouldn’t take long for her to get bored and leave. “Man’s got to protect himself and his family, Mrs. Travis, and put food on the table. Rifles are good for that.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, adding dryly, “Been more’n once I’ve seen _you_ totin’ a gun, come to think of it.”

Mary huffed slightly. “Only when I didn’t have a choice.”

Chris looked back at her, grey-green eyes narrowing. “And did you learn safely from somebody who knew, or by pickin’ one up when you had to have it and wastin’ precious time fumblin’ through?”

Mary drew herself up a bit taller and said primly, “I did not _fumble_. It merely took me a moment or two to figure out how to work my husband’s shotgun. I didn’t know the hammers had to be back to fire.”

Chris decided to hell with it and stood up, dusting his ass off with his hat. If she followed, she followed, but he was going to at least _try_ to get away. Sometimes she actually took the hint. “A few minutes might be more than Billy has some day. Be a damned shame to bury the boy because _you’re_ afraid of guns.” He turned away to walk over to Vin and the boys, jamming his hat back on his head. Stupid woman, wanting to live in frontier country like it was back east. It was a wonder she had survived as long as she had.

Vin gave him a little grin as he got closer and murmured, “Got tired of talkin’ already, cowboy?”

Chris snorted, amused despite his annoyance at Mary, and didn’t particularly try to keep his voice down. If Mary wanted to be nosy and listen in, then she deserved whatever she heard. “Hell, she don’t want to talk, she just wants to complain about guns and us terrible men that use ‘em.”

Vin and Danny both snickered at that and Billy muttered, “Momma’s got ideas about getting rid of all the guns someday. I don’t see how she ever could, but she sure wants to.”

Chris reached out to ruffle Billy’s hair, smiling slightly. He liked having Billy around, despite how often Mary tested his gentlemanly aversion to hitting a woman. “A lot of city folks do, Billy, but you just can’t live out here without knowin’ how to shoot. Not yet anyway.” He looked at Vin. “You about done with these two for the day? You’ve been workin’ them most of an hour.”

Vin grinned. “Billy knows as much as he’s gonna without shootin’, an' Danny’s hittin’ the can more often than not. I reckon we done real good for a first lesson.” He looked at Danny, asking, “What do you think?”

Danny grinned. “I think that’s fine if you don’t mind me riding into town again soon for another lesson. Ma’s wearing that Peacemaker Mr. Larabee said she should carry, so I figure she’s safe enough for me to leave her. She won’t let me touch any of our guns until you say I’m ready for it, so there’s not much I can do until then if there’s trouble again.”

Vin reached out and put his hand on Danny’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “How ‘bout we figure on a lesson day after tomorrow? That’ll give me an’ Chris time to catch up on what we let slide last week, an’ you can get your chores done ‘fore you ride in.”

Danny nodded quickly. “That’d be fine. Where do I find you?”

“Prob’ly either on the boardwalk or in Ezra's saloon,” Vin replied, smiling. “Look for Peso and Pony, me an’ Chris won’t be far off.”

“Could you talk to Momma about letting me come too?” Billy asked suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “She’s got me working at Mrs. Potter’s store all week because of that stupid pony losing his bridle.”

“I can’t get you out of your punishment, Billy,” Vin said, amused. “Your ma’s right set in her ways, an’ she don’t much like me teachin’ you about guns to begin with.” Vin leaned a little closer to Billy with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and added, “Doesn’t like me much either, come to that, not since my horse ripped the back out of her dress.”

Danny and Chris both snickered at that, but Billy sighed and drooped a bit. “She has been _real_ mad about that. It’s not like she didn’t know Peso hates _everybody_ but you and Chris.”

“Don’t worry, Billy, we’ll teach you later,” Chris said, smiling. “You’ll just have to give us time to pester your ma about it.” He grinned at Billy. “I’ll sic Josiah on her. If anyone can convince her, it’s him.”

“Or maybe Ezra,” Vin agreed, grinning. “Mary’s right taken with his manners.”

Chris snickered and nodded, giving Vin an amused look. “Most ladies are.”

“Billy!” Mary called suddenly, impatient. “Come along, it’s time to go. I am _sure_ that Mr. Larabee and Mr. Tanner have something in town that needs their attention.”

Chris chuckled and rolled his eyes, then patted Billy’s back and nodded towards Mary. “You might as well go on, son. I’ll talk to Josiah and Ezra and see if one of us can’t talk your ma into it, but I ain’t makin’ no promises.”

Billy beamed up at Chris. “Thank you, Chris!” He hugged Chris’ waist and then turned away and ran to the buggy to climb up next to Mary, who was watching Chris and frowning.

Chris smiled and tipped his hat to her as he called, “Afternoon, ma’am. Drive safe.” He turned away again and muttered, “Silly woman.”

Danny snickered. “Pa used to say all women are crazy.”

“And he was right, too,” Chris agreed immediately, grinning at Danny. “Never met a woman yet who didn’t act like she snacked on loco weed every once in a while.”

Vin snickered and reached for the carbine, taking it from Danny and then leaning it over his shoulder as he started towards Blue. “C’mon Danny, let’s go get you headin’ home. Me an’ Chris evidently got work to do yet today.”

Danny hurried after Vin. “What kind of work?”

“Well, JD and Buck ain’t had much time off the last week while we was gone,” Vin said, “and we’re about out of supplies out to Chris’ place—“

“Our place,” Chris corrected, following Vin and Danny as he heard the buckboard pull away. “Yours as much as mine, partner. You've put just as much sweat and blood into buildin' it as I have.”

Vin glanced over his shoulder at Chris, grinning and obviously pleased. “Our place, then.” He looked back the other way at Danny and went on, “Anyway, we’ve got a barn t’ finish yet, and fencin’ to do. There’s always somethin’ we should be doin’.”

Danny made a face. “Sounds like our place. We never seem to get ahead of the work without something breaking or falling apart.”

Chris chuckled. “That’s the way life is when you’re farming or ranching, Danny. You spend your life gettin’ up with the sun and working until you’re about ready to drop.”

Vin looked back at Chris again, grinning as he stopped to wait for Chris to catch up. “Sounds like you ain't so fond of it there, cowboy.”

Chris laughed and gave Vin a shove towards the horses. “I never said that, just that it’s a hell of a lot of work. And stop calling me cowboy!”

Vin just snickered and let Chris push him into moving forward again.

“If it’s so much work,” Danny asked, confused, “why would anyone want to do it? I can’t think of much I hate more than hoeing weeds or plantin’.”

Chris smiled at Danny. “It’s the things you have at the end of the day that matter, Danny. There's not a much more important job a body can have than raisin’ crops or stock. Farmers raise pigs and sheep and grow vegetables, grain, and hay, and ranchers raise the cattle and horses that eat the hay and grain the farmer needs to sell to keep his head above water. Without the farmer _and_ the cattleman, people in towns would have no food to buy.”

Danny seemed to be thinking about that still as Vin stopped a few feet from Blue and smirked at Chris, teasing, “And that’s not just ‘cause you’ve done both, right?”

“Hey now,” Chris protested, laughing, “don’t you go tellin’ lies about me! I never planted a crop in my life!”

Danny snickered. “Then why’d you tell Ma you know how to push a plow?”

“Anything a farmer can do, I can do.” Chris grinned at Danny. “That doesn’t mean I _have_.”

Vin snickered and muttered, “Says the man who grew up on a farm.”

Chris poked Vin in the ribs. “I don’t air your dirty laundry, you leave my humble beginnings out of this.”

Danny snickered and moved to Blue to put her bridle on. “Pa wanted to raise cattle, but Ma insisted on farmin’. She says it’s the only way she’s gonna get any vegetables out here.”

“She’s got a good point,” Vin agreed, grinning. “Can’t buy much that’s fresh out here unless you go right to a farmer.”

“Lucky for us there’s more of ‘em every day,” Chris said dryly, amused.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Ezra idled on the saloon’s porch for a while after Mrs. Potter finally left him in peace, still watching the livery out of the corner of his eye and waiting for Buck to appear. There was only the one door so he knew Buck hadn’t snuck out another way, even though he couldn’t think of anything Buck might need to do in the livery that time of day that would take most of an hour.

Ezra’s curiosity finally got the better of him and he had just stood to go check on Buck when he noticed the widow Calhoun walking towards him slowly from the other direction. Her knee obviously pained her still, and something about the way she carried herself hinted at her sore ribs. Nathan had decided that there weren’t any ribs that were actually broken, but they were battered badly enough that Mrs. Calhoun needed to keep them wrapped anyway.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” Ezra said cheerfully, smiling. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“It most certainly is, Mr. Standish.” Mrs. Calhoun returned the smile warmly, shifting the basket she was carrying. “Good afternoon. I trust you’re having a good day?”

“You trust correctly. Might I be of assistance to you?” Ezra gestured towards her basket, which gave off the heady smell of pastry and peaches. “A lovely lady such as yourself should not be burdened with anything so heavy, no matter how divine it may smell. That’s what gentlemen are for.”

Mrs. Calhoun laughed softly and offered the basket to him. “Normally I would say no, but you do ask so nicely, and this basket is rather heavy.”

“It is an honor to be of service.” Ezra accepted the basket quickly, settling it over one arm before he offered her the other elbow with a pleased grin. “Now then, ma’am, what might your destination be on this fine spring afternoon?”

Mrs. Calhoun smiled warmly at him and stepped closer to put her hand on his elbow. “I was hoping to speak to Mr. Tanner when he returns, but first I need to visit with Yosemite. Mrs. Travis and Josiah both thought he might know of someone with a milk cow for sale.”

“Yosemite does seem to know whenever there is stock for sale in the area, for a fact,” Ezra agreed as he wondered if the peach confection in the basket that smelled so divine was intended for Vin. He definitely intended to get at least a taste of it, if that were the case. Vin often stole from Ezra’s plate if he was nearby when Ezra was eating, after all, and Ezra was not above returning the favor.

They began walking down the boardwalk slowly towards C & D Smith’s Feed and Seed, and if Mrs. Calhoun leaned on Ezra a bit more than most ladies would he most certainly was not going to comment on it. He was sure she needed the help. “If he isn’t aware of any suitable stock,” Ezra went on after a moment, “I would be honored to aid in your search. Do you prefer a certain breed?”

“Jersey, if one can be found,” Mrs. Calhoun said quickly, smiling. “I would be extremely grateful for your aid, Mr. Standish. Living so far from town, I’m not as well acquainted with the people of the area as I might like to be so I haven’t a clue who to ask on the subject.”

Ezra grinned at her. “It just so happens that I am well acquainted with many of the locals. I am sure that if there is a Jersey available, I will be able to discover where within the week.”

Mrs. Calhoun beamed. “Thank you, Mr. Standish. Is there any way I could possibly repay you?”

Ezra grinned a bit wider, eyes twinkling merrily. Maybe he wouldn’t have to _steal_ some of that confection after all. “Now that you mention it, there is one thing...”

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

Part 15

 

Buck stepped out of the livery stable and stood in the building’s shade, feeling relaxed after more than an hour of peace and quiet with Misty and looking around as he wondered what his friends were up to. He spotted JD first, sitting in front of the jail looking surprised while Casey stood nearby and talked earnestly to him. The girl was wearing a pretty dress for a change, and Nettie was in their buckboard not far away looking resigned as she waited for Casey. After a minute or two JD finally nodded and stood, taking Casey’s hand to walk with her to the buckboard and help her in with a smile. Nettie and Casey both said something and then Nettie whipped up her team and they cantered out of town while JD hurried towards Buck.

“Buck!” JD called when he got within twenty feet, “Do you need me to stay in town this afternoon? Nettie and Casey want me to come fix their corral and stay for dinner. Brandywine kicked out some boards fighting with one of the geldings that got too close to her new colt.”

Buck laughed. Nettie and Casey were both very capable ladies, and they needed JD’s help to fix a few busted boards about as much as Chris needed JD helping him load a gun. If they wanted JD out to visit them, there was an even chance that Casey had changed her mind on the whole marriage issue. That would explain Nettie’s resigned look and Casey actually wearing a dress. Even on Sundays the girl usually wore britches, though the ones she wore to church were a lot nicer than her usual attire.

“No JD, go on,” Buck said, grinning. “Chris and Vin will be back before long, and they’re taking over the rest of the afternoon. I reckon me and Ezra can keep things in hand until then.”

Chris and Vin hadn’t agreed to that yet, of course, but Buck didn’t intend to give them much choice. He’d been doing his part while they were gone and now it was their turn to sit around on the boardwalk being bored out of their skulls while _he_ did a little roaming. Of course, knowing those two, they wouldn’t even be bored. They seemed to actually enjoy watching the world go by, usually without saying a word while still constantly commenting to each other in that infuriatingly silent way of theirs. A few minutes spent on the boardwalk near them often ended with Chris and Vin snickering at something and _always_ made Buck want to swat one of them upside the head and tell them to let everyone else in on the joke. The most maddening part was that if he did ask they usually couldn’t explain what had struck them so funny, as if it was too deeply intuitive to them for anyone else to understand.

JD beamed. “Thanks Buck!” He didn’t say any more, hurrying past Buck into the barn to saddle his gelding so he could ride out after Nettie and Casey.

Buck headed across the street, muttering to himself, “Good luck, kid. You’re gonna need it.” He was stepping up onto the boardwalk when he noticed Ezra and the widow Calhoun a bit further down, and he grinned as he hurried to catch up to them. He slowed as he got closer, not wanting to scare Miss Lorrie by running up behind her, and his eyebrows rose when he heard what they were talking about.

“And you must _dice_ the butter before mixing it into the sifted flour?” Ezra asked, sounding curious and pleased.

“Oh yes!” Miss Lorrie replied quickly, smiling warmly at Ezra. “It has to be about the size of a sweet pea. That’s the secret to a wonderful crust, Ezra. Well, that and keeping it as cool as possible until you’re ready to use it. Mother always insisted it had to be put on ice for at least an hour, but I haven’t been able to do that out here, as I am sure you understand.”

“Quite,” Ezra agreed, chuckling softly. “It is rather difficult to obtain ice here most of the year.” He glanced over his shoulder, adding, “And I rather doubt you are interested in making pies, Mr. Wilmington, so to what do we owe the dubious pleasure of your presence?”

Miss Lorrie stopped and turned to look at Buck quickly, surprised, and Buck swept off his hat and grinned at her before he answered Ezra. “Just wonderin’ where you’re taking such a lovely lady, Ezra.” He looked pointedly towards the end of the boardwalk, which wasn’t much farther along, and then back at Ezra, who had stopped when Miss Lorrie did. “Until I heard you talkin’ cookery, that is. Since when do you know how to bake a pie?” Speaking of pie, there was a nice one in that basket Ezra was carrying unless Buck’s nose had gone haywire. The smell of peaches and pastry was enough to set Buck’s mouth to watering even though he’d had lunch and two pieces of Mrs. Potter’s apple pie at the potluck.

Miss Lorrie laughed softly as Ezra drew himself up to his full height and gave Buck a disdainful look. “I am an accomplished chef, Mr. Wilmington. I simply refuse to waste my talents on those – such as yourself – who consider canned beans cooked with chunks of _jerky_ as a fit meal.”

Miss Lorrie giggled, looking at Buck. “Oh surely you don’t! That sounds _dreadful_.”

“That’s trail food, ma’am. After a day in the saddle it tastes mighty good.” Buck smirked at Ezra, adding, “And I seem to remember you eatin’ it more than once, Ez.”

Ezra gave Buck such a superior look that Buck suddenly wanted to mess up his hair or something equally childish, just to wipe that look off of his face. “When one is starving, there are many things a body can stomach, including your rather execrable cooking.”

Miss Lorrie giggled and patted Ezra’s arm. “Oh, you poor thing.” She leaned against Ezra’s shoulder, giving him an impish smile. “Most men are terrible in the kitchen though, I think. I know my Rory couldn’t make anything more complicated than biscuits, and from what Vin has said he and Mr. Larabee are even worse.”

Ezra laughed. “You may believe every word Vin said on the subject. Given the choice, I would rather eat Buck’s dubious efforts than turn either of those two – well intentioned though they may be – loose in my kitchen. Their baking efforts in particular are… memorable.”

Buck snickered even though he was wondering when Vin and Miss Lorrie had discussed Chris’ cooking, and why. “Chris makes what my momma used to call ricochet biscuits.”

Ezra chuckled softly and nodded. “On a good day.”

Miss Lorrie looked bemused. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but curiosity has the better of me.”

“A ricochet biscuit,” Buck explained with a wide grin, “is a biscuit that you can throw at the wall and it’ll ricochet right back into your mouth. Ma always said you were better off going hungry if it did, ‘cause that biscuit was probably tougher than an old shoe.”

Ezra smirked. “And Mr. Larabee’s biscuits are unquestionably of that eminently tough variety. It has been my misfortune to accidentally try one on several occasions, and I have never failed to regret it. They _appear_ to be good biscuits, as a rule, but appearances are not to be believed where Chris’ cooking is concerned.”

Miss Lorrie laughed softly. “No wonder Vin said they get their biscuits and most of their meals in town.”

“It’s self defense, really,” Ezra agreed, smirking at Miss Lorrie. “Even a written recipe could not aid Chris in his endeavors to bake. I know, because I have supplied him with one on several occasions. It was a dismal failure every time.”

Buck grinned “I bet he lost the recipe almost as soon as you gave it to him, Ezra. Next time tuck it into one of his books, he doesn’t lose them.”

Ezra snorted, giving Buck an amused look. “I would do better to give him a book of _recipes_. He needs them badly.”

Buck snickered. “I bet Vin’d appreciate it. Chris won’t hardly share a kitchen, and livin’ with him Vin’s stuck eatin’ his cookin’ more often than not.”

Miss Lorrie laughed softly. “I had gathered that they spend a lot of time together working, but I didn’t know they live together.”

Buck managed not to let his surprise show on his face, keeping his grin plastered on and vainly looking for an explanation.

Ezra saved Buck the trouble of thinking up something to say, giving Miss Lorrie an amused grin. “They do, though Vin still hasn’t bothered to move his belongings as yet and they both have rooms in town as well. They are going into the horse business together, and building the facilities they will need takes all of their limited free time. Vin has never enjoyed living in town, so it seemed only natural for him to stay at the ranch while they’re working.” He laughed and leaned a bit closer to Miss Lorrie, green eyes sparkling. “They have nearly finished the barn, improved the pastures, put down _two_ pitcher-pump wells, and cleaned out most of half a mile of the creek, and yet Vin still sleeps in the loft because they can’t be bothered to finish the cabin and put in the second bedroom. Heaven forbid they might both sleep in comfort when their _horses_ aren’t being pampered.”

Buck hid his relief at Ezra’s explanation, wondering how much of it was true and how much Ezra made up on the spot. Knowing the way Ezra and Vin talked, it might well all be true. Buck had been out to Chris’ place often recently, but he hadn’t really paid attention to what all they had done. He had been sure that Chris would never raise horses again, so he hadn’t figured they had much work planned anymore.

Miss Lorrie smiled and shook her head. “My younger brother was just the same, bless his soul. He rode a big dark bay Thoroughbred and doted on that horse as if it were his own child. Daddy gave Calypso to him as a yearling when Jamie was thirteen, and they grew up together.” Her smile faded away. “His commander wrote to me after his death and told me that they found Calypso still standing guard over him nearly a day after a particularly prolonged fight, protecting him from any who approached even though his foreleg was broken. Jamie was barely nineteen, and died of a head injury. His commanding officer had to put Calypso down, and wrote to let me know that Jamie slipped away without ever having to know Calypso was gone.” She smiled sadly. “That horse was his life.”

Ezra stared at Miss Lorrie for a long moment, so obviously shocked that Buck wondered what in the world Ezra was thinking, and then Ezra asked softly, “Corporal James McMichael? Of Company G of the Sixth?”

Miss Lorrie looked at Ezra quickly, eyes widening as she nodded. “The very same.”

Ezra stared a moment longer and then murmured as if to himself, “The people one meets in the wilds of this benighted territory.” He seemed to recall where he was and smiled suddenly as he gave Miss Lorrie a gallant bow, sweeping off his hat and somehow holding her basket steady to one side without ruining the effect. “You simply _must_ be Lorraine. You seem to recall corresponding with me as Edward Whiteford, ma’am, then a Lieutenant, also of Company G of the Pennsylvania Sixth. It is a very great pleasure to meet Jim’s sister. He spoke of you often.”

Buck stared at Ezra, at _least_ as shocked as Miss Lorrie was. He felt as if his whole understanding of Ezra just got flipped on its ear and scrambled around. Chris had mentioned to Buck that he thought Ezra was a military man not long after they met, but given his accent they had naturally enough assumed that Ezra rode for the South just as Vin had. To learn Ezra fought for the North changed Buck’s view of the dandified Southerner and made him wonder suddenly why Ezra had never corrected Nathan’s digs at him for fighting on the wrong side.

“Whiteford?” Miss Lorrie repeated, wide-eyed and confused. “Is your name not Standish?”

Ezra gave her a self-depreciating smile as he put his hat back on. “I am afraid my dear departed grandfather could not face the thought of his only grandson going down in the history books as one who betrayed his people by fighting for the Yankees, ma’am. He asked me not to sully the Standish name by putting myself on the Union rolls, and I chose to borrow the name of a classmate who had already left the country for safer climes elsewhere.” He grinned suddenly. “It was surprisingly easy to falsify my papers, and then I fortuitously happened to arrive in Philadelphia when the Sixth was being formed. A business associate of my grandfather’s put in a good word for me, and before I knew what had happened I was in the cavalry.”

Miss Lorrie smiled, still looking surprised. “Surely you can’t be the Lieutenant who kept threatening to steal Calypso from Jamie and wrote me that lovely letter to let me know what happened to them both?”

Ezra chuckled slightly. “One and the same, my dear. My own mounts during the war simply could not compare to Calypso’s impeccable quality, and at the time I threatened to steal him I was on a grey entirely unsuited to the night work I was so often engaged in. I __borrowed_ _ Calypso on more than one occasion for a stealth mission, and owed my life to him several times over for deftly outpacing a Rebel pursuit. He was one of the finest horses it has ever been my sincere pleasure to ride. Putting him down was very difficult for me, but I could not allow him to suffer.”

“I never would have guessed, Ezra,” Buck said quietly, staring at Ezra in surprise still. “Chris and I had you pegged for wearing the grey for sure.”

Ezra snorted and gave Buck an amused look. “I know, Mr. Wilmington, but I assure you that I did not.” He grinned wolfishly. “Unless, of course, I was conning some unsuspecting Rebel. My company spent much of our time behind enemy lines where resupply from our own far better stores was problematic, at best.” He smirked. “At times my decidedly Southern accent came in very handy when we were in enemy territory, as did Calypso’s nearly black hide.”

Miss Lorrie laughed softly. “In Jamie’s last letter he told me of a mission where you and he and half a dozen other men donned the grey and rode into a Rebel camp to capture a paymaster and the men protecting him. He went on and on about how you had the Rebels eating from your hand until you gave the order to attack.”

Ezra preened. “I was rather proud of that one. It was pure luck when my detachment stumbled across the men assigned to protect that paymaster, and I simply could not let such an opportunity go to waste. We had only a few minutes to plan and change uniforms before we rode in, and still avoided a single injury and captured twenty remounts, in addition to the payroll and the prisoners.” He smirked. “We discovered afterwards that particular paymaster was bearing important dispatches from Richmond, as well as a considerable amount of Rebel money intended as the payroll for a full regiment. General Lee’s salary fed my men quite well until we could rejoin our own lines, and the mounts intended for his cavalry allowed us to rest our own for the first time in a very long while.”

Miss Lorrie giggled again. “Jamie was so very proud of that raid. He must have written two pages about it.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Buck said suddenly, grinning at Ezra. “You really rode for Rush’s Lancers?”

“I believe we established that some time ago, Mr. Wilmington,” Ezra said, amused. “Do keep up.”

Miss Lorrie laughed. “Ezra, be nice.” Ezra just smirked at her and then looked back at Buck expectantly, waiting for Buck to go on.

“Chris was a Captain then and I was a first Lieutenant. We both rode with Custer that campaign,” Buck explained, still grinning. “I heard of Rush’s Lancers a time or ten. Your unit protected our backs after the battle near Charlottsville.”

Ezra blinked at that and Buck knew Ezra must be truly surprised, despite the fact his amused expression didn’t change otherwise. “We did ride rear guard after that campaign, yes. I never spoke to any of Custer’s men, but Company E did some trading with them.”

“Small world, ain’t it?” Buck asked, grinning. “We were with Sheridan at Petersburg, too. We fought along side the Sixth cavalry, but I don’t remember you Ezra. There wasn’t more than a hundred of ‘em there, and your accent would have stood out a bit.”

Ezra snorted, but it sounded more like a laugh. “My horse was shot two weeks before Petersburg, and remounts were impossible to be had. The unhorsed members of the Sixth were ordered to remain in camp through most of that campaign, but we were allowed to fight afoot at the final battle on White Oak Road. We were only forty-eight men by then, but we did our part.” He smirked suddenly. “One of my men found Chaucer near a creek after the battle, standing guard over a dead Rebel major. The corporal happened to mention it in my presence, and I decided to see what I could do about remounting myself since our dear President could not manage to do so in a timely manner. It took me most of the night to get a hand on him, but it was well worth the effort.”

Buck laughed. “I thought he was ex-cavalry!”

“That valiant charger recalls the bugle far better than I do,” Ezra said, chuckling softly. He seemed to remember Miss Lorrie then and looked quickly at her, bemused. “Do excuse us, ma’am. I had forgotten myself in recollection, and you have errands to run.”

Miss Lorrie smiled warmly at Ezra. “Don’t you dare apologize, I was quite enjoying the chance to listen in. My father was a cavalry man as well, and it’s been such a long time since I was home that I actually miss his endless recollections of his years in the saddle.” She grinned impishly. “Father was a Colonel with Company A of the Sixth New York cavalry, but he was forced to retire after an injury only a few months into the war. He spent much of the remainder of the war telling me stories of his exploits, both real and imagined.” She giggled. “Father ran out of stories, you see, and he so loved to be the center of attention that his stories of battles in previous wars were ... _embellished_ , as it were.”

“That does not surprise me in the least,” Ezra said, amused. “I have met many an old warhorse I have suspected of a similar tactic.”

Buck grinned and glanced along the main street, thinking he had met many of the same, and spotted Chris, Vin, and Danny cantering the other direction, heading towards the livery. “Speaking of old warhorses...” He looked back at Ezra and Miss Lorrie, grinning. “Chris and Vin are about to relieve me as sheriff for the afternoon, so you’ll have to excuse me.”

Ezra laughed, leaning to look past Buck in the direction he had been looking. “And are they aware of this yet?”

“Nope.” Buck grinned a little wider. “That’s why I have to catch ’em before they can ride out.” He tipped his hat to Miss Lorrie. “Afternoon, ma’am.”

Miss Lorrie laughed softly. “Have a good afternoon, Buck. Please tell Danny I won’t be long.”

Buck tipped his hat and winked. “You have my word, ma’am.” He nodded to Ezra and then turned away to walk quickly back up the boardwalk, grinning widely. He had been wrong, Chris and Vin seemed to be headed for where Miss Lorrie’s wagon was parked in front of Mrs. Potter’s store.

“You’ll have to forgive Mr. Wilmington, he sometimes has the attention span of a child,” Ezra said just after Buck turned away, sounding amused.

“Ezra!” Miss Lorrie protested, laughing. “Buck simply has other duties, I am sure.”

“Mmm,” Ezra agreed, and from his tone Buck was sure he was smirking. “I shall take your word for that, despite my doubts. I believe we were on our way to visit with Yosemite, were we not, ma’am?”

“We most certainly were,” Miss Lorrie agreed, sounding amused. “I shouldn’t like to keep Danny waiting long.”

If Ezra replied, Buck didn’t hear it, but then he wasn’t trying to very hard. He was too busy lengthening his stride to hurry towards where Danny had just dismounted and was talking to Chris and Vin, who had stayed in their saddles. They looked as if might ride off at any moment, and Buck surely didn’t want that to happen before he had the chance to guilt them into a few hours of sheriffing.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Vin shifted slightly in the saddle, watching Chris and Danny talk. He expected they’d be heading over to the livery in a few minutes, and from there to the jail. He had spotted Ezra and Buck talking to Miss Lorrie, but JD was nowhere in sight, which really wasn’t unusual for a Sunday afternoon. After church JD often rode out to the Wells place to spend time with Casey and do whatever chores Nettie had saved up for him. Nettie wasn’t sure she liked the idea of Casey being so attached to a sheriff, or a deputy for that matter, but she wasn’t shy about leaving the heavy lifting for JD to do when he was around.

“Tuesday it is, Danny,” Chris said to Danny, smiling. “We’ll be on the boardwalk or in the saloon, shouldn’t be too hard to find us.”

Danny grinned widely. “I’ll be here. I’m sure Ma won’t mind me riding in to have lunch with you before my lesson.”

“Just remember to do your chores first,” Chris reminded him, amused. “We won’t be the cause of you slacking off.”

“I promise!” Danny said quickly, nodding. “I can get it all done easy if I get up a little early.”

Peso suddenly tucked his rump slightly and stiffened, and Vin turned to look behind them only to snort, amused. “You lookin’ to get kicked?”

Buck grinned when he met Vin’s gaze and didn’t slow his approach. “Nope! You two are just the men I wanted to see, though!”

Vin turned Peso so his rump was towards Pony before Peso could fire off a kick at Buck, grinning. “You wantin’ another lesson already, Bucklin?”

Buck laughed. “Hell no! I’m wantin’ an afternoon off.” He leaned to look past Peso and Pony at Danny, adding, “Your ma will be along soon, Danny.”

“Thanks,” Danny said, grinning.

“See you later, Danny,” Chris said, amused, and Vin looked over his shoulder at Chris and Danny just in time to see Chris heel Pony around to stand next to Peso.

“See you, Danny,” Vin echoed, grinning at the boy and tipping his hat.

Danny grinned and did the same. “Tuesday!” He turned and walked quickly across the boardwalk towards Mrs. Potter’s store, and Vin turned his attention back to Chris and Buck.

“Seems to me that Sunday’s our day off,” Chris said, grinning down at Buck and folding his arms on his saddle horn. “This is your afternoon, remember?”

“I took your shifts all week, Chris!” Buck protested, laughing. “I’m plumb tired of sittin’ and playin’ visible deterrent. Y’all can take the job until JD gets back from the Wells place, it ain’t but three, four hours.”

Chris snorted, still grinning. “We’ve been in the saddle all week. That counts as work, Buck.”

Vin snickered and nodded towards Chris. “What he said. After all the ridin’ this week, I was lookin’ forward to spendin’ some time _not_ sittin’ on my ass. Even runnin’ fence is startin’ to look like fun, an’ I hate diggin’ postholes.”

Chris snickered, glancing at Vin. “You and me both.” He looked back at Buck. “Well? If we take your shift, what do we get for it? When do we get our time off?”

“Tomorrow,” Buck said quickly. “I’ll take the mornin’ shift for you. How’s that?”

“That ain’t near enough,” Chris said quickly, laughing. “Mornin’ shift’s easy an’ we’re likely gonna be up by dawn anyway. If we take your shift we’ll be stuck in town until near dark, and that’s a whole afternoon wasted. Try again.”

Buck chewed on his lower lip, thinking, then grinned. “Well then, how about next Saturday? I’ll take the whole day for ya’ll, JD will help. That’ll give you the weekend off. That’s fair, ain’t it?”

“Deal,” Vin said before Chris could answer, grinning. Chris looked at Vin, bemused, and Vin explained, “I don’t wanna be in town for the social. You know Mary’ll draft you for somethin’ if we are, and that’ll mean I get stuck helpin’ out too, like as not.”

Chris made a face. “You got that shot right.” He looked back at Buck. “Alright, we’ll take today until Josiah and Nathan take over after dinner. You’d better not try and weasel out of next Saturday though, or there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

“Deal!” Buck said, grinning wider. “I’ll see you boys tomorrow.” He tipped his hat and headed off across the street towards the hotel.

“Buck!” Chris called when Buck was almost across the street, grinning.

Buck stopped and looked back. “What now, Chris?”

“Where you headed?” Chris grinned. “Just in case we need you.”

Buck grinned. “Miss Maggie’s, but don’t you be botherin’ me unless it’s life or death.” He didn’t give them a chance to reply before he turned away and jumped up on the boardwalk, and then headed for the hotel’s front door, whistling.

Vin looked at Chris. “Looks like I was right. Ready for an afternoon polishin’ a chair with your back pockets?”

Chris snickered and looked at Vin, grey-green eyes twinkling. “Gonna keep me company?”

Vin grinned. “Wild horses couldn’t drag me away, cowboy. You’re plumb stuck with me.”

Chris laughed and heeled Pony towards the livery. “Good!”

Vin grinned and gave Peso his head, letting him leap after Pony. There were worse ways to spend an afternoon.

 

 

~ End


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